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DE VANE:
St aorn of
PLEBEIANS AND PATRICIANS.
BY
HON. HENRY  W. HILLIARD,
EX-MEMBER OF UNITED STATES HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES FROM ALABAMA.
"The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that."
BURNS.
Ti    VOL UMES IN ONE. - VOL.'I.
BLELOCK & COMPANY, 19 BEEKMAN STREET.
1865.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
HENRY W. HILLIARD,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District
of New-York.
JOHN A. GRAY & GREEN,
Printers,
16 & 18 Jacob Street, New-York.




WHEN every worldly thought is utterly forsaken,
Comes the starry midnight felt by life's gifted few,
Then will the spirit from its earthly sleep awaken
To a being more intense, more spiritual and true.
So doth the soul awaken,
Like, that youth to night's fair queen.
The Awakening of Endymion.








DE VANE'
PLEBEIANS AND PATRICIANS.
CHAPTER I.
AND ne'er did Grecian chisel trace
A nymph, a naiad, or a grace
Of finer form or lovelier face!
-LADY OF THE LAKi.,
AN October sun was shedding his dying splendors upon
earth and sky. The level rays bathed the valley through
which the river poured its swift current in warm light,
and gilded the spires of the little capital seated on the
eastern bank of the stream with a richer lustre than gold
could give. A purple haze rested upon the landscape, and
the tints which the sky wore were of that soft and delicate
kind, peculiar to a southern climate in autumn.
Two young gentlemen were walking arm in arm on the
river-bank, observing the effect of the light as the waters
rushed over the adjacent falls and flowed at their feet, the
spray touched by the glowing hues of departing day. A
ferry-boat, or flat, as it was called in the dialect of the country, had just reached the opposite bank, and a travelling(7)




8                     DE VANE.
carriage drove into it, followed by a gentleman and two
ladies, who walked after it. The current being rapid and
deep, the boat was drawn from the one bank to the other
by means of a rope stretched across the stream and fastened at both sides securely; but it required some time to
make the passage, and the two gentlemen reached the
steep road which led up from the river in their walk, and
stood there observing the objects about them as they
would have studied a picture.
One of them appeared to be about twenty-four years of
age, and there was an air almost of sadness about him as
he surveyed the wide-spread landscape. The other was
younger, certainly not more than twenty, and his manner
was animated.
"Waring," said he, "this picture almost equals our
Virginia scenery; but you want the mountains, and the
Germans say you must have them, or a landscape is
nothing."
" I do not suffer the Germans to decide questions of taste
for me," replied the other, " nor do I feel any more respect
for their opinions in such matters than I do for their theological views. For tranquil beauty, nothing can surpass
this scene."
"Ah! you have not forgiven me for my transcendentalism, as you style it, because I express some admiration for
German speculations. Yet I am sure that they hold almost supreme dominion in that realm, that is, if you accept Jean Paul Richter for authority, for he says:' The
land belongs to the French, the sea to the English, and
the air to the Germans.'"
"Certainly," said Waring, "and Jean Paul Richter confirms my opinion; for he means, that the German mind
has nothing practical about it, and is simply speculative,
and I think generally misty."
"Still, Waring," answered the other, "you must admit




DE VANE.                       9
that a sunset in the mountains does excel this; here you
have quiet beauty, I agree, but standing in the midst of
our Virginia mountains, you realize what Beattie means,
in those fine lines of his Minstrel;:'The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields;
All that the genial ray ofmorning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,
All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven.".At this moment, the boat having reached the bank, the
carriage drove up the steep ascent, and the party in the
boat followed it on foot, coming up to that part of the
road where-the gentlemen were standing; when the elder
of the two suddenly started, and then advancing toward
the travellers, exclaimed: "Why, Mr. Springfield! have
you returned? I am delighted to see you."
"Ah! Mr. Waring, you are here to welcome us!" the
gentleman to whom he addressed himself replied, grasping his hand: "We begin to feel now that we are already
at home."
Waring then spoke with the ladies, who received him
warmly, and expressed their gratification at reaching
home once more.
So sudden had been the recognition of the travellers
by Waring, that he had no time for explanations to his
friend, who remained standing on the roadside, apparently interested and pleased with the scene; but now Waring, turning to him, said: "Mr. De Vane, let me present
you to Mr. Springfield."  And the young gentleman, advancing, was also introduced to the ladies. One of these
was Mrs. Springfield, and the other her niece, Miss Woordsworth.
There was in the manner of De Vane a blended selfpossession and embarrassment, which did not escape the
1*




10                    DE VANE.
observation of Mrs. Springfield, and which interested her;
she saw that his bearing had in it something of stateliness,
and yet perfect good breeding. As the party entered their
carriage and drove off, the two young gentlemen turned
their steps in the same direction, and resumed their conversation.
"Waring!" exclaimed De Vane, "are those people
friends of yours? Mehercule! I never saw so lovely a person as that young girl. I give it up! With that addition
to your picture, I never saw any thing, even in Virginia, to
rival it."
"What!" said Waring," does she compensate for the
absence of mountains?"
" Mountains! she would shed a glory over Siberia. "She
is absolutely radiant. Who are they? "
"The gentleman," replied Waring somewhat gravely,
" is a man of fortune, cultivation, and taste; yet a Methodist, and what it may perhaps surprise you still more to
learn, is a lay preacher.  Learned, accomplished, and
thoroughly acquainted with the world, he is a Christian,
and while he is unwilling to assume the responsibilities of
a clergyman proper, yet he preaches habitually, and with
an earnestness and power rarely equalled."
De Vane's face expressed astonishment and yet interest,
but he was too well bred to say all that he felt. To see
such a man, and to hear him thus described, was so unlike
any thing coming under his own observation, that he was
surprised, and he could not repress some remark of that
kind; but knowing his friend Waring to be a Christian, he
restrained himself.
"And the ladies," said De- Vane, "what of them?"
"The ladies," replied Waring," are Mrs. Springfield,
the wife of the gentleman to whom I have just introduced
you, and a woman of the highest order. The younger lady
is Miss Esther Wordsworth, a niece of Mrs. Springfield."




DE VANE.                     11
"A Methodist, too?" exclaimed De Vane.
"A Methodist, too," replied his friend.
"'Mehercule!" said De Vane, using his habitual classical
exclamation when he was excited, and added: "I must
really know more of them; for that young girl might be
an angel just arrived, to show us what the inhabitants of
heaven look like."
They walked on for a few moments in silence, and then
having reached the College grounds, each one sought his
own room.
John Waring was a native of Georgia. He had grown
up in that State; and after struggling with adverse fortunes for years, had acquired sufficient means to enable
him to take a. collegiate, course. His parents died when
he was quite young, leaving a very slender property for
their two children, the son, of whom we have already spoken, and a sister still younger than himself.
John, then about sixteen years of age, at once decided to
give his sister the whole advantages of the estate; and began even at that early age to teach a school. He persevered in this, until he acquired what he felt would enable
him to complete his own education; and in his twentysecond year had entered the celebrated College in which
he was now a student. He was in his senior year, and
expected to graduate in December, at the approaching
Commencement. He was deeply pious; and had been
trained in that religious denomination which had acquired such influence in Georgia, as to number among its
members the poor and the rich, the humble and the aristocratic. He was a Methodist.
George De Vane was a young Virginian.  He had been
for more than two years a student in the College, and in
the same class with Waring. He, too, looked to a speedy
graduation. Younger by several years than his friend,
yet he had become intimate with him, shared his love of




12                     DE VANE.
nature, his passion for books, and his disposition to seek
recreation out of the common ways of life. Seeing his
matured and well-knit form, no one would have supposed
that his health was not perfect; yet his'friends fearing that
a disease not unknown. to his family, might develop itself
in him, advised him to pass some years in a milder climate
than that of the mountain district of his native State. He
was the only son of General Charles De Vane, a gentleman of large fortune, who had seen actual service in the
army, and had acquired distinction in the late war with
England. His property was so large, as to make it important for him to reside on his estate; and as his tastes
were aristocratic, he saw little of general society. He belonged to that class of gentlemen, now almost extinct in
Virginia, who were as exclusive in their social intercourse
as the English nobility. He never travelled but with a
coach and four horses;.kept his servants in livery; and
all the appointments of his large establishment were as
formal and elaborate as if the world had undergone no
change; just as if the law of primogeniture had not been
destroyed, and suffrage made universal.  His wife had
died when George.was but five years ofage, and a widowed sister came to reside with him, who took charge of his
household.
Mrs. Hester De Vane, who had married her cousin
of the same name, to whom she was ardently attached,
and whose death she still mourned, shared her brother's
aristocratic tastes, but she was in almost every other
respect widely different from him. Several years younger than her brother, she still retained traces of personal
beauty; and having been plunged into deep grief by
the loss of her husband, who died just four years after
their marriage, she had sought that consolation which a
stricken heart finds nowhere but at the feet of Him who
invites the weary and heavy-laden to come to him-and




DE VANE.                     13
she had found rest. Cultivated, refined, elegant, she was
a Christian; preferring her own church, the Protestant
Episcopal, she yet often attended religious services elsewhere. Her brother never accompanied her when she attended "chapels," as he styled them. She was childless;
and she bestowed on George.De Vane all the exuberance
of her fine nature. She instructed him in those things
which only a woman can teach: taught him to love music, for which she had a passion; to draw, encouraging
him to sketch from nature; and she opened to his young
mind the hidden treasures of that noble library which had
been accumulating in his ancestral home for more than
half a century. She saw the grand nature of the boy:
grand, yet with faults that might shed disastrous eclipse
over all the heaven of his future. Generous, brave, impetuous, full of truth and ardor, sympathizing with every
thing great and noble, yet with strong aristocratic tastes,
and not resolute where his tastes were offended; full, too,
of sensibility, and impatient of restraint; a genius that
almost disdained labor-such were the outlines that characterized the young nature which stood upon the threshold of manhood. No one of his age was better informed;
his teachers had fitted him for college at an early age, delighting in his proficiency; and his aunt had instructed
him in elegant learning to such a degree, that few of any
age could surpass him in acquaintance with English literature.
In the society of gentlemen-such gentlemen as wereentertained at General De Vane's table - George was
full of sympathy, entered freely into conversation with
them, and unostentatiously, indeed unconsciously exhibited those rare acquirements which attracted to him the attentions of persons much older than himself. When, too,
he accompanied his father in his visits to the capital of his
State, he found much to stimulate his ambition. Often he




14                    DE VANE.
rambled in the great forests which stretched out almost
illimitably about his home, taking his gun with him; lifting his voice in reciting the lines of favorite poets; and
sometimes, like the great Athenian, addressing an imaginary audience, in his loudest tones, until the wild woods
echoed with his vehement harangues. Oh! what a training for genius, ambition, and sensibility such a youth
gives-a youth alternating between society and solitude!
How the intellect grows and the soul expands, like nature
in that zone lying between the extremes of northerp ice
and tropical fervors, when Spring breathes upon it!




CHAPTER II.
" LADY that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labor up the hill of heavenly truth."
MILTON: Ode to a Virtuous Ioung Iady..
PDE VANE, closely engaged in his studies, did not quit
the college grounds again before the following Saturday.
His closing examination was about to take place, and he
was roused to unusual exertion.  The youngest member
of a large and strong class, he wished to distinguish himself; and as he had not bestowed that attention upon -his
Mathematical course, which the importance attached to it
in the College required, he now redoubled his diligence.
In Metaphysics and Belles-Lettres, he was without a
rival; and few equalled him as a classical scholar.  As an
orator, he was transcendent, and his Society had already
chosen him to deliver the Valedictory Oration at the approaching commencement. But in Mathematics, his tastes
had not been met, and he was respectable, without being
distinguished in that department. In the Faculty he had
friends; but the Professor of Belles-Lettres and Oratory
was especially attached to him, and that gentleman had
advised De Vane to devote the remainder of his time
mainly to the neglected branch of study. Professor Niles
was a man of large acquirements; had attained eminence
at the bar, and then, while yet young, had given up his
profession, and had passed some years in European travel.
Before his return, he was elected by the Trustees to the
(15)




16                    DE VANE.
Chair which he now filled, and from the first recitation
made by De Vane, in his department, he had formed a
high estimate of the young student, which soon ripened
into a friendship. He had married in France a young,
beautiful, and accomplished woman, and De Vane often
passed his evenings at their house, where his tastes were
cultivated-music, books, conversation, every thing contributing to the encouragement of his favorite pursuits.
Walking in the College campus, De Vane saw his friend
Waring descending the steps of the chapel, and he immediately joined him.
"Waring, what are you to do with yourself this fine
day? Are you disposed for a walk?"
" Yes," replied Waring; "where shall we go?"
"Into the town; we may perhaps meet your fair
friends once more. Have you seen them since our meeting on the river-bank?"
"Yes," said Waring; "I called the next evening, and
Mrs. Springfield asked after you with interest."
"Indeed!" said De Vane. "I am grateful. I hardly
supposed she would think of me again. I owe it to you,
Waring."
" Not at all; she was really pleased with you, and made
me give a full account of you."
" I trust you were generous, Waring, and did not make
her believe that I am a free-thinker."
"No; I told her that you wanted discipline; that you
were somewhat spoiled, and inclined to be transcendental."
"Did the young lady ask after me, Waring?"
" No; she sat by, and heard my description of you."
" And did not ask a single question about me?"
" Not one," said Waring.
" That is not flattering; she must be as cold as a Greek




DE VANE.                     17
statue-she is certainly as beautiful as one. If the Venus
de Medici can excel her, I shall pronounce it faultless."
"She would consider it no compliment to be compared
with Venus, even in marble," said Waring; " if you must
go to the fine arts, why not say Raphael's Virgin?"
"Because," replied the other, "she does not in the least
resemble her.: Nor does she remind me ofher, except by
her near: relation to something divine. I am willing to say
Iphigenia, or, if you prefer, Ruth, or Eve; but she is Eve
yet in Eden."
"As you will,' replied his friend.
By this time the: young gentlemen had entered the principal street of the town;.and, walking leisurely, they
enjoyed the animated scene. The morning was fine, handsome equipages dashed past, and the sidewalks were
thronged with pedestrians.  Quite a number of young
people were walking; the students from the College, and
the young ladies from the academy and the schools, were
enjoying the bright, bracing air.'":.aring,": said.De Vane,' let us look into this bookstore; I love book-stores —they are the most agreeable of
all places on earth to:me."
They entered the book-store. It was an unusually fine
one;,its: shelves were: enriched with the handsomest editions, of the best works in the language; rare old volumes
too might be: found here; and De Vane had passed many
an hour in looking through them. He-was soon absorbed
by a splendid copy of the Paradise Lost, bound in two
large: volumes. Raising his head at length, while a smile
broke over.his: fine face, like a sun-beam," Waring," said
he,. "come here; I will give you the portrait of your
young friend, and even you will not object to a single feature:in it." W.aring walked up to his side, and.De Vane
read: in his finest style-a style-unsurpassed by any one of
any age-the lines in which Milton describes Eve:




18                     DE- VANE.' For softness she, and sweet attractive grace;
She, as a veil, down to the slender waist,
Her unadorned golden tresses wore
Dishevel'd, but in wanton ringlets waved,
As the vine curls her tendrils."
At this moment Miss Wordsworth entered the store;
and Waring and De Vane both colored.  She led by
the hand a little girl, plainly dressed, but with perfect
neatness, and whose young face glowed with animation.
Esther Wordsworth was, as De Vane had said, radiant;
her complexion was perfect, and her rich, heavy, golden
curls fell about her face "waving," in the language of
Milton; her large dark-blue eyes had in them  a fathomless depth, which reminded one of a lake; the face was
oval; and the mouth and chin, perfect in themselves, gave
an indescribable charm to her expression. The profile was
classical; the outlines, as clear as if the chisel of an artist had traced them, were what we call Grecian; and
when she smiled, her teeth revealed their perfect beauty.
Slightly above the medium height, her form possessed that
roundness which suggests health and activity, with grace;
and her walk was elastic and rapid; her dress, made of
some dark, rich material, fitted her shape exquisitely. As
she entered, both the gentlemen advanced to meet her, and
she frankly extended her hand to Waring; her manner
showing that she recognized him as an established friend.
She bowed to De Vane, who stood by his side.
"We are fortunate, this morning, Miss Wordsworth,"
said Waring; "we came to look at books, and did not
know that we should have the pleasure of meeting you,"
She rewarded him with a gracious smile.
" We often find in books," said De Vane, "unexpected
pleasures;. and in book-stores we may always look for
something agreeable."




1DE VANE.                   19
Esther turned her eyes full upon the speaker; there was
in his manner something that impressed her-a grace and
dignity rarely seen; and his language might be construed into a compliment to herself, or it might mean
nothing more than he had literally said. She replied:
"I am often here; there are few places more agreeable
to me; and if I could consult my-tastes, I should pass
many hours here. But I came this morning to select a
book for my little friend here, who is to be rewarded for
her diligence and good conduct."
The child looked up into the face of De Vane earnestly,
fora moment, and then smiled. He gave her his hand.
" And how has your little friend earned her reward?"
he asked.
"By learning well, and by doing well," said Esther; "I
always make my gifts depend on good conduct as well as
proficiency."
De Vane was surprised; it seemed that Miss Wordsworth was a teacher, and yet it could hardly be so. Her'
position in society, her circumstances, made it improbable.
Esther read his embarrassment perfectly, but said nothing.
"To whom do you go to school?" said he to the child,
still holding her hand.
"Miss Esther teaches me, sir," said she, half timidly
and half proudly.
"I see, Mr. De Vane, that you do not comprehend it,"
said Esther, smiling. "This little girl, Mary Sinclair, is
one of my pupils. I have ten."
DeVane could not conceal his astonishment; but his
good breeding prevented his expressing it in words. There
was in Esther's manner something so lady-like, so aristocratic, as De Vane thought, that he could not comprehend
how she could be a schoolmistress. She did not explain
it, but remarked that having examined her pupils since her




20                    j DE VANE.
return from her summer excursion to Virginia, she had
found the little girl, whom she had broughtto the bookstore, entitled to a reward, and she had come to purchase
it.  De Vane bowed low, and Waring, observing the
scene, smiled.
Esther, turning to the counter which stood: in themiddle of the store, began to look over the:new bright books,
which:-were temptingly ranged upon it, and: presently
selected one.
"Did you pass the summer in Virginia, Miss Wordsworth?" De Vane asked.
" The greater part of it," she replied; "we passed a few
weeks in Philadelphia, and at Cape May.. But Mr. Springfield yielded to the wishes of my aunt and myself, and we
entered the heart of the Virginia mountains, and; lingered
there until:the frosts admonished us that we must leave."
"And do you admire mountain scenery? And prefer it
to cities and watering-places?"
"I love the mountains," she replied. "They are glorious."
De Vane was delighted, and: he turned his face, lighted
up with a smile of triumph, upon Waring.
"But," said that gentleman, "it is only in their summer
garb that you have seen them; you would not reside in
such a region?"
"I have never seen them in winter, it is true, but I can
imagine that they only exchange their summer verdure for
higher glories in winter."
"Still," insisted Waring, "you love this dear Southern
clime."
"Oh! yes, dearly. I love my home, but I should be
very sorry to think that I should never see the mountains
again."
" Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane with emotion," you
do not know how much I owe you. You speak of my




DE VANE.                     21
home when you speak of the. Virginia mountains; and my
heart answers to your language in sympathy which I will
not attempt to express in words." 
Other persons entered the store, and Miss Wordsworth
and the two gentlemen turned into one of the alcoves, and
began to examine the books which looked to them as
friends.
Esther had taken down Madame De Stael's L'Allemagne, and was turning its pages.  De Vane asked if
she had bestowed much attention on German literature.
She said: "I have not explored it, but have looked into
it, as a traveller passes through a strange country."
" And did you admire it? "
"The question is not easily answered," replied Esther,
"there is. much that is beautiful-indeed, fascinating; but
I suppose I must admit that I share that prejudice which
Madame De Sta5l says exists in England, against the
philosophy and the literature of Germany."
"But you observe how she accounts for that, do you
not?" said De Vane, taking: the book from Esther's hands
and reading the paragraph: "Le gout de la societe, le plaisir et l'interet de la conversation ne sont point ce qui forme
les esprits en Angleterre; les ajfaires, le parlement, I'adninistration, remplissent toutes les tetes, et les interets politiques
sont le principal objet des menditations. Les Anglais veulent
d tout des resultants immediatement applicables, et de ld
naissent leurs preventions contre une philosophie qui a pour
objet le beau plutdt que l'utile."
"Yes," said Esther, "Madame De Stael is ingenious;
but she was too thoroughly continental in her tastes to
comprehend the English. I think she gives us the true
reason for what she calls the prejudice of the English
people against the philosophy of Germany, when she
states, as she does in another part of the volume in your
hands, that the chief subject of intellectual pursuit in Ger



22                    DE VANE.
many is Metaphysics, and that their system aspires to
solve the mystery of creation, and to explore the infinite."
"And do you object to that, Miss Wordsworth? Do
you not agree with her that the enigma of the universe
has always engaged the attention of the noblest minds,
and that although they continue to revolve about the
abyss of fathomless thoughts, from age to age, we must
still strive to scale the heavens?"
He spoke with great animation.  Esther hesitated a
moment before she replied; a glow flushed her face, and hei
eyes almost swam with tears. She sympathized with the
enthusiasm of the young, ardent nature, seeking to find
the true and the infinite, and yet without a guide.
"Mr. De Vane," she said, gently looking into the glow
ing face of the -young student; " we shall strive forever in
vain to scale the heavens, unless we follow the steps of
Him who has gone before, to prepare a place for us."
De Vane started. There was so much of gentleness,
and yet so much of courage in this young girl, who made
the appeal to him, in behalf of her religion, with such a
total absence of affectation, that he was deeply moved.
He bowed, and then added: "I think you will agree, Miss
Wordsworth, that Schiller sought the divine way. Do
you remember what Madame De Stael says of him in his
last moments? Allow me to render it in English.' Stricken
while yet young, with a hopeless malady, his children, his
wife-who merited by a thousand touching qualities the
attachment which he had for her-had soothed his last
moments.  Madame De Wollzogen, a friend capable of
comprehending him, asked him, some hours before his
death, how he did: "Still more tranquil," he answered.
Indeed had he not reason to confide in the Divinity, whose
reign upon earth he had favored? Was he not approaching the sojourn of the just? Was he not at this moment
near his peers, and about to rejoin the friends who awaited
him?'"




DE VANE.                    23
"Beautiful! "exclaimed Esther. "Beautiful! Madame
De Stael could appreciate the good when it was associated
with genius and refinement. I thank her for vindicating
the superiority of sacred over classical poetry. Will you
lend me the book for a moment? "  De Vane placed it:in
her hands, and she turfted to the notice of poetry, and read:
"Groves, flowers, and brooks sufficed for the poets of paganism. The solitude of forests; the ocean without limits;
the starry heavens, could hardly express the eternal and
the infinite, with which the soul of Christians is filled."
De Vane looked into her face, as if it had been the face
of an angel. She replaced the book; and taking the little
girl by the hand, bowed to the gentlemen, and left the
store. Waring had stood leaning against one of the bookshelves, and had silently observed and heard all that
passed between De Vane and Esther. His face wore an
expression of sadness, and yet the flush of something like
triumph overspread it.
"Waring," said De Vane, " who is Miss Wordsworth?"
Waring smiled. "She is, as I have already informed
you, a niece of Mrs. Springfield."
"Oh! yes; but give me her history."
" Her history," said Waring, " is a brief one, for she is
very young-scarcely seventeen. But let us walk, and I
will make you acquainted with it, so far at least as I know
it myself."
They turned their steps toward a fine garden in the
eastern part of the town, which was open to visitors.
"Miss Wordsworth," said Waring, "is an orphan, and
resides with her aunt. Her father was a young Methodist
minister, an only brother of Mrs. Springfield, and younger
than herself. Thoroughly educated, with cultivated tastes
and ample means, he felt it to be his duty to preach the
Gospel; and he entered the self-denying, heroic company
of men, who are known to the world as Methodist preach



24                     DE VANE.
ers. He was a native of Georgia, and he married in the
neighborhood of Athens, in that State, a young, accomplished, and. beautiful woman, who loved the cause of
Christ as well as he did.
" In the fifth year of his ministry he was sent to Savannah, and in September an epidemic appeared, which:swept
hundreds into eternity. Mr. Wordsworth sent his wife
and their child Esther-then four years old-into the country, and devoted himself to the care of the sick and the
dying. The eye that saw him bare witness to him, and
the ear that heard him drank in the tones of his cheerful
voice, and dying lips whispered thanks and blessings.
Worn down with fatigue, he contracted the disease, and
sank under it. Mrs. Wordsworth, hearing of his'illness,
hastened to his bedside, and reached him in time to cheer
his dying hours.  She, too, fell a victim, and in the course
of a few days was laid by his side. One of the most bea:utiful spots in the cemetery in that city, is that where Edward Wordsworth, and Ellen his wife, sleep side by side;
a spot which many feet visit, and upon which many hands
yet drop flowers. Esther was taken into the arms and
into the heart of Mrs. Springfield, who was childless, and
she has resided with her ever since. Masters have been
called in to instruct her, and a governess was:for four
years in the family, but she has never been in a public
school. And now you know the history of Miss Wordsworth," said Waring, as they entered one of the broad
walks of the garden.
"But does she teach?" asked De Vane. "I suppose
that she inherits her father's estate, of course. Why should
she teach?"
Waring smiled. "I see, De Vane, that your aristocratic
tastes are offended. Yes, she teaches! Some day we will
visit her school. It is not very far from here, and lies hidden away in a garden almost as large as this."




DE VANE.                   25
Gay groups were seen in the wide grounds, and a fashionable party promenaded in the walk just before them.
Fruits, flowers, and birds yet rejoiced in the lingering
autumn, and the sun shed almost summer splendors over
the scene. The two friends took one or two turns through
the ground, and then departed for the College.
2




CHAPTER III.
"STILL in the soul sounds the deep underchime
Of some immeasurable, boundless time.
For otherwise, why thus should man deplore
To part with his short being? Why thus sigh
O'er things which fade around, and are no more;
While, heedless of their doom, they live and die,
And yield up their sweet breaths, nor reason why,
But that within us, while so fast we flee,
The image dwells of God's eternity?"    WILLIAMS.
THE next day was Sunday.  The morning rose upon the
earth in cloudless splendor.  The serene heavens seemed
to bend nearer to a redeemed world, as if they would embrace and purify it. The mocking-bird poured its joyous
song upon the air; and the robin uttered its quick cheerful notes, as it sprang from branch to branch of the Chinatrees, with which the town abounded.
De Vane looked out upon nature, but he turned away
and plunged into his books.
Waring went to church, as he did habitually.  No studies could tempt him  from  attending the morning and
the evening service.
Upon his return he entered the apartments of De Vane,
and found him  deep in his studies.
"Where have you been, Waring? "
"Where you should have been," replied the other.  " I
have been engaged in worshipping that God who made
the heavens and the earth-both so bright to-day."
"Ah! Waring, you are a Christian."
(26)




DE VANE.                    27
"And what are you? " he asked.
" Come, come, sit down," said De Vane, "and then you
may read me a lecture."
" De Vane, will you go with me this evening, if I call
for you?"
" To go where?" asked De Vane.
"To the Methodist Church.  Mr. Springfield is to
preach: it was announced this morning."
"Most willingly," replied' De Vane; "but to tell you
the truth, I never was in a Methodist chapel in my life.
To hear Mr. Springfield, however, I will go. I feel quite
an interest in him."
"Very well," said Waring; "I will call for you at
seven o'clock. We must go early to find a seat; they are
all free, you understand; and Mr. Springfield attracts
large congregations."
Punctually at seven Waring called, and they walked to
the church, or meeting-house, as it was most frequently
called. It was a large framed building, destitute of ornaments, and seated with benches, a rail running down
the middle of each row of seats, dividing them; the two
sexes being rigidly separated during public worship. The
building was already crowded; but Waring being a wellknown member of the church, found a seat for De Vane
and himself quite near the pulpit.
As De Vane took his seat, he surveyed the scene; it was
new to him. A gallery ran along the end and two sides of
the building, for the accommodation of the blacks; and it
was filled with them.  The pulpit was high above the
seats of the building, as if its construction was designed
to impress the hearers with the authority of the preacher.
Clusters of candles, hung against the walls, and the pillars
which supported the gallery, lighted the house. De Vane
was impressed with the air of quiet earnestness, which
pervaded the audience, composed mainly of well-dressed




'28                       DE VANE.
people, apparently in the middle walks of life; but he
observed many who were evidently of the higher and
wealthier class, and some gentlemen whom  he knew to
be persons of distinction, among them Mr. Hallam, a man
of the very highest intellect, and Dr. Dahlgreen, who seldom  attended any religious service, and who was suspected of entertaining the sceptical opinions attributed
quite generally to Dr. Hume, the President of the College.
At this moment two ladies entered the opposite aisle, and
took their seats upon the very bench where De Vane and
Waring were seated; the former separated from them only
by a slight strip.  They were Mrs. Springfield and Esther; and De.Vane found himself by the very side of the
latter. His heart beat quick; for his eyes met Esther's
as she entered, and she recognized him  instantly.  The
ladies knelt, and engaged for a few moments in silent
prayer., Mr. Springfield entered by a door in the rear of
the building, and ascended the pulpit.  He rose, and there
was deep silence throughout the crowded assemblage; he
opened the services by reading the sixty-seventh Psalmthat grand appeal to God-to cause his face to shine upon
the people; and teaching that, when the people acknowledged God, even temporal blessings would abound.
Then followed the hymn:
"Thou God of glorious majesty,
To thee, against myself, to thee
A worm of earth I cry!
A half-awakened child of man,
An heir of endless bliss or pain,
A sinner born to die.
"Lo on a narrow neck of land,'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand,
Secure, insensible!
A point of time, a moment's space,
Removes me to that heavenly place,
Or shuts me up in hell.




DE VANE.                      29
" 0 God! mine inmost soul convert,
And deeply on my thoughtful heart
Eternal things impress;
Give me to feel their solemn weight,
And tremble on the brink of fate,
And wake to righteousness."
The whole congregation rose to their feet, and united
their voices in singing the lines; the blacks in  the
gallery joined in the song, and swelled the mighty
stream of sound, which rolled upward, and away to the
throne of God. Esther's voice rose rich and clear, every
word distinctly uttered; and such was the ravishing
sweetness of her tones, that De Vane felt as if an angel
stood by his side, to lead him to the gates of heaven.
Such music he had never heard before. The tones of Esther were not lost in the volume of the swelling sound
about her; but with a clear tender cadence they penetrated the very depths of the soul, and De Vane felt the
tears starting to his eyes. After the first stanza had been
sung, Esther, observing that De Vane did not join in the
music, handed him her own book; and standing nearer to
Mrs. Springfield, used hers. The prayer followed the
hymn, the congregation kneeling, in which act of devotion
De Vane's good breeding made him take part. A second
hymn succeeded the'prayer, and the text was announced,
without the least preface. It was from the Acts of the
Apostles, seventeenth chapter, thirtieth and thirty-first
verses: "And the times of this ignorance God winked at;
but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent: because he hath appointed a day, in the which he will judge
the world in righteousness, by that man whom he hath
ordained; whereof he hath given assurance to all men,
in that he hath raised him from the dead."
The sermon was of the highest order. It brought Athens
to view, and portrayed the scene where the first great




30                    DE VANE.
public conflict took place between Christianity and enlightened Paganism. It represented St. Paul, standing on
the Areopagus, surrounded by temples and statues, by
all that was majestic or graceful in architecture, and elevated and refined in art; the spot where the intellect
of Greece displayed its highest forms, and achieved its
noblest triumphs. It depicted the Apostle with his learning, his courage, and his ardor, rebuking the vain attempts
of man to embody the Deity in visible forms; and announcing the sublime truth that, since the coming of
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, incarnate, suffering, dying,
triumphing, the world was under' a higher responsibility
than before; and that God would bring all men before
the dread tribunal of that august Being who, shrouding
for a time the splendors of his divinity in the human form,
had actually submitted to death for us; but who had
risen again, refulgent with the glory of an all-conquering
Prince.
De Vane was borne away by the rich, massive current
of thought, which was wholly new to him, and he for the
first time saw the glory of classical learning pale before
the higher glory of Christianity. The temples of antiquity, and the whole gorgeous world of mythology, perished before him, and the cross stood the symbol of the
world's hope, bathed in the serene.light of heaven.
At the close of the sermon, the whole audience seemed
released from some invisible influence which had held them
in moveless subjection; and a stir-an indescribable moving of feet and change of posture-evinced how earnest
had been the attention of the whole living mass during its
delivery.
A young minister rose, offered a prayer, another hymn
was sung, and then the congregation dispersed. De Vane
instantly extended his hand to Esther, and she saw that
he was deeply moved. Mrs. Springfield, too, came forward,




DE VANE.                    31
and gave him her hand warmly, inviting both Waring and
himself to visit them. De Vane gladly promised to join
his friend in his future visits to the family, and, taking L
leave of the ladies, he put his arm in that of Waring, a.
they turned their steps toward the College.
" Well, De Vane," said Waring, "what do you think of
a Methodist meeting?"
"I must say," he answered, " that I am amazed. I never
witnessed any thing so impressive. The music, or rather
the singing, was glorious, and the sermon was the finest to
which I ever listened. I am almost ready to say that I
never heard true eloquence before. How the whole pagan
world shrunk, dwarfed before the majesty of the Redeemder, sublimer in his death than all the gods in their triumphs!"
"I rejoice to hear you speak thus, De Vane. It proves
what I have long believed, that you are capable of appreciating goodness and truth, wherever you find them."
" I deserve no credit," said De Vane. "Any one would
have been impressed by what we have witnessed this
evening. Oh! that my aunt, Mrs. De Vane, could have
been present. I must write her such a description of it
as I am able to give. Waring, Miss Wordsworth is almost   "
"An angel?" interrupted Waring. " I do not think she
has wings."
"I trust not," said De Vane, "for she might spread
them and quit this world, to seek her native home above
those stars."
The heavens were brilliant; countless numbers of stars
burned in the deep blue. The cool October air was pure,
and the angelic hosts seemed to look out from the sky, to
light the pilgrims of earth to the realms of the happy and
the immortal.




CHAPTER  IV.
HER voice is hovering o'er my soul. It lingers,
O'ershadowing it with soft and lulling wings;
The blood and life within those snowy fingers
Teach witchcraft to the instrumental strings.
PERCY BYSCHE SHELLEY.
As the students were leaving the College chapel, after
evening prayer, Waring put his arm in that of De Vane,
and walked out with him. " De Vane, I have a note from
Mrs. Springfield.  She wishes me to ask you to join me
to-morrow evening at her house. They receive visitors
every Thursday evening, and I think you will be pleased,
if you can spare an hour or two from study, to meet some
persons who will probably be there."
" I shall go, with great pleasure," said De Vane.
Little did Waring comprehend the thrill of joy that
warmed the soul of his friend at the thought of meeting
Esther once more. De Vane was ardent, but he was sensitive and proud; and while he did not hesitate to express
his admiration for Miss Wordsworth in glowing terms,
yet Waring supposed it was only the language of a natural homage to a person of such resplendent beauty. But
De Vane was conscious of a far intenser sentiment than
that which we call admiration. He had often admired
women, but now he felt his whole nature moved. The
first warm ray of real love beamed upon his soul, and it
responded, like the statue of Memnon, to the rising sunif not in vocal tones, in thrilling consciousness of the new
power which controlled him. He was himself amazed at
(82)




IE VANE.                    33
the strength of his own passion; for he felt that already
the ascendency of the young, bright girl whom he had so
lately met was complete. Her beauty at once attracted
him, and her manners, her intellect, her cultivation, so far
transcending what he had seen in others, asserted their
domain over him triumphantly.
Thursday evening came, and when De Vane entered the
parlor with Waring, he found the room pretty well filled
with persons, engaged in animated conversation. Mrs.
Springfield welcomed them warmly, and presented them
to two gentlemen who were conversing with her as they
entered. One of these was Mr. Hallam, whose fine face,
full of kindness and intelligence, De Vane remembered to
have seen on more than one occasion; but as he had not
gone into society generally, he had not met him before.
There was an awkwardness in his lounging attitudes that
gave him the appearance of rusticity, and his modesty was
such that he was easily embarrassed; but his fine mind
shone out everywhere. He engaged De Vane at once in
conversation, and soon interested the young student so
deeply, that he was startled when Waring, coming up to
him some little time after, laid his hand on his shoulder,
and asked leave to interrupt him, that he might present
him to some other persons.
They walked into the next room-the library-into
which the parlor opened by two doors, with a pier between; and De Vane observed that it was furnished with
exquisite taste. The walls on three sides were hung with
pictures, and the third wall was fitted with shelves for
books, and entirely filled with them. Large, handsome
fauteuils, sofas covered with bright stuff, and a few light,
tasteful chairs, were placed in the room So as to afford
seats for those who wished to examine a book or print in
any part of the room. A rosewood cabinet-table stood
near the centre of the floor, and rich crimson silk curtains
3*




34                    DE VANE.
draped the windows. On the white marble mantel stood a
splendid French clock, ornamented with the figure of Petrarch seated, his arm resting on a tablet, inscribed with
the name of Laura. Against the pier was placed a pianoforte, a splendid instrument, open, and some sheets of new
mnusic laid on it. Over the instrument hung a portrait of
Esther, in the highest style of art. It was a bust, the head
turned and looking away, so as to show the profile in part,
while yet the expression of the whole face was preserved.
It was in an oval frame, of a rich, massive style. De Vane
saw all this at a glance, accustomed as he was at home to
such surroundings. Several gentlemen were standing with
Mr. Springfield as De Vane and Waring entered the room,
in conversation with him, but when he saw the students
he advanced to meet them.
" Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Springfield, "I am happy to
see you in my house. Your friend, Mr. Waring, has made
me feel as if I had long known you."
De Vane bowed low, and he was presented to the other
gentlemen. Up to this time, De Vane had not seen Esther; but, turning away from the gentlemen, who now
resumed their conversation, he saw her seated in the midst
of a group of ladies, over whose chairs two or three young
men were bending, listening to a narrative which some
one was giving, of a distressing accident which had occurred that day. De Vane drew near, and Esther rose tb
meet him, extending her handto him with frank cordiality.
iHe joined the group, and the conversation became general.
"Ah! Miss Wordsworth, you are, as usual, surrounded
in-such a way that one with less courage than I possess
would hardly venture to attempt to reach you."
De Vane quickly turned to observe the new-comer. He
was a large, well-formed man, who appeared to be buit little
more than thirty years of age. His ruddy complexion, blue
eyes, and light hair gave him somewhat the appearance of




DE VANE.                    85
an English gentleman. His face beamecL with animation,
and there was unusual grace in his attitude. His voice
and his enunciation at once attracted and charmed De
Vane, and as he approached Esther he bowed very low,
and taking her hand, touched it with his lips.
"0 Mi. Clarendon!" she exclaimed, "I am delighted
to see you. Is Mrs. Clarendon with you?"
"Alas! no," he replied, "she charged me with kind
messages to you, but dared not take the night-air."
Esther, turning to De Vane, said: "I wish to present
you to Mr. Clarendon; he too is a Virginian, and loves the
mountains of his native State."
Mr. Clarendon shook his hand warmly, and expressed
his pleasure at meeting him.
"I wonder," said he, "that I have not met you before;
you must have hid yourself."
"I have not gone out much," replied De Vane, "and
when not engaged in College duties, I have found in the
library so much to interest me, that I pass most of my
hours there. I did not know until now how much I was
losing."
Esther was standing by the side of Mr. Clarendon, and
De Vane's glance was for an instant turned on her as he
said this. Still the remark might have been intended to
take in Mr. Clarendon too; and while she colored-she
was conscious that she did so-she replied that she was
happy to have the good fortune to introduce him to her
friend, to whom she felt herself indebted for so many bright
hours.
Mr. Clarendon bowed, and said:  Mr. De Vane, I trust
you are acquainted with the art of self-defense; if not, I
suggest that you begin presently to study it."
They all laughed, and the conversation took a general
range, embracing books, the fine arts, and religion-a subject which Esther introduced by remarking to Mr. Claren



^3                    DE VANE.
don, that during the past summer she had heard the venerable Bishop McKendree preach, and added:
"I am happy to say that he is to be here sometime this
winter."
Mr. Clarendon replied: " I am happy to hear it. I have
been taught by a good aunt of mine to venerate him, for
she ranks him next to her friend Bishop Asbury."
De Vane took part in the conversation, spoke with animation upon the several subjects, and disclosed a degree
of cultivation which surprised Mr. Clarendon; while he,
on his part, felt his admiration of that gentleman rising
into enthusiasm. Speaking of him to Esther afterward,
he said:
"Your friend, Mr. Clarendon, charms me; he has'The large utterance of the early gods.'"
"Did you ever hear Bishop McKendree?" Esther inquired of De Vane.
" I ashamed to say," he answered, " that I never heard
any preacher of that denomination until last Sunday evening, and you may imagine my surprise-and gratification."
"I always go to hear my friend Springfield, Mr. De
Vane," said Mr. Clarendon, "and I will go anywhere to
hear a true man who can interest and instruct me. We
are too much governed in our good old commonwealthwhich I love as well as you do-by aristocratic habits;
and the same thing may be said of this State. It is giving
way, however, to some extent; for intellectual power has
a certain majesty about it which compels reluctant homage
where it is not freely yielded; and the Methodist Church
numbers in its ministry some men of the highest order."
Waring came up at this moment.
"My friend," said De Vane, turning to him, " has said
so to me, and I shall hereafter put myself under his guidance-at least, in spiritual matters."




DE VANE.                     37
"Better seek a better guide," said Waring gravely.
" There is One always ready to lead us into all truth."
"I think, Waring, you follow Him closely," said De
Vane, " and if I keep by your side, I shall not be far out
of the way."
Esther gave him a smile, which showed how she valued
this frank tribute to the worth of Waring.
Mr. Clarendon said: " Miss Wordsworth, will you give
us some music?"
She took his arm, and he seated her at the piano.
" What shall I give you, Mr. Clarendon?"
" There is a song that has just been written by a friend
of mine, a Georgian, an eminent lawyer, and I believe it
has been set to music," he replied.  "It is very sad
though-perhaps too much so for you:'My life is like the summer rose.'
" I have it here," said Esther; "it was sent to me today by the author of the lines, who was a friend of my
mother."  Her voice almost trembled.
She took up one of the sheets of music lying near her,
spread it before her, and running her fingers over the keys
of the instrument, drew from it such notes that it seemed
to have a soul. Her golden hair fell in rich ringlets about
her face, except the heavy braid which was held by a clasp
of Etruscan gold on the back of the head, and the blue of
heaven shone in the lustre of her eyes. She seemed to
De Vane a youthful priestess, transcending in her loveliness, the highest impersonations of classical beauty; warm,
and yet pure, as if an angel had come for a season to sojourn on earth and bring human passion under the dominion of Christian sentiment.
She sang the lines with indescribable tenderness, and it
seemed as if the very spirit of sadness dwelt under the
keys which she touched.




38                           DE VANE.
"My life is like the summer rose
That opens to the morning sky,
But ere the shades of evening close
Is scattered on the ground-to die I
Yet on the rose's humble bed
The sweetest dews of night are shed,
As if she wept the waste to seeBut none shall weep a tear for me!
"My life is like the autumn leaf
That trembles to the moon's pale ray;
Its hold is frail-its date is brief,
Restless, and soon to pass away!
Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade,
The parent tree will mourn its shade,
The winds bewail the leafless treeBut none shall weep a tear for me!
"My life is like the prints which feet
Have left on Tampa's desert strand;
Soon as the rising tide shall beat,
All trace will vahish- from the sand.
Yet, as if grieving to efface
All vestige of the human race,
On that lone shore loud moans the seaBut none, alas! shall mourn for me!"
"The  lines  are very  beautiful,"  said  Mr. Clarendon,
"but, oh! how  sad."
"And  do  you not love sad music?" she asked, looking up.
".Not at all times-I am  capricious; but I love your
music, whether it be joyous, or steeped in sorrow."
De Vane had not uttered a word-he could not.  Esther
turned to him, and asked if there were any piece of music
which  he  especially  admired.  He  roused  himself, and
breathed deeply, as if just restored to consciousness.
"Do  you  sing  Jephthah's Daughter, Byron's Hebrew
melody?" he inquired.




DE VANE.                     89
" Yes," she answered, "but that, too, is sad."
" I can scarcely feel that any thing deserves the name
of music that is not sad," said De Vane.
"I quite agree with you," she answered with animation,
"except in sacred music. There I love the joyous, the exultant, the triumphant, as well as the tender."
"You should hear the Miserere, Miss Wordsworth, as I
have heard it in Rome, if you would comprehend the depthsof sadness in music," said Mr. Clarendon.
Quite a number of persons had now gathered about the
piano. Esther touched the keys and sang, with unrivalled
pathos, the song for which De Vane had asked; and as
she uttered the prolonged cadence of the closing line" And forget not I smiled as I died!"
tears were in the eyes of many who heard her. De Vane
could not conceal his emotion, and he observed that Mr.
Clarendon was moved; but that gentleman said:
" Miss Wordsworth, I did not come here this evening to
have the fountain of my tears unsealed, and I shall insist
upon something brighter than all this."
"Yet," said Esther, "what a glory breaks over the
dirge-what a wild, passionate, exultant triumph bursts
forth from the dying Jewish maiden, as she remembers
that she had won the great battle for her sire, and that
her country was free! How grandly she says:'Though the virgins of-Salem lament,
Be the judge and the hero unbent!'"
"Thanks, Miss Wordsworth-thanks," exclaimed De
Vane, "for your vindication of my taste."
"The wonder with me is," said Waring, "that Lord
Byron could write such a song."
"Men are often much misunderstood," said De Vane.
"Lord Byron had in his nature the elements of religion;
if he sinned, he was sorely sinned against."




40                    DE VANE.
" His religious elements must have been sadly perverted,
to permit him to live as he lived, and to write as he wrote,"
rejoined Waring.
"Yet," said Mr. Clarendon, "if he was a fallen angel,
he was like Milton's-his form had not lost all the original
brightness."
Esther looked at him as if grateful that he had said a
word somewhat favorable to De Vane's estimate of the
noble poet.
"Esther," said Mr. Springfield, "will you give us one
of your sacred songs?"
" Gladly," she replied; and she sang that beautiful
hymn,
"Rock of ages, cleft for me;"
while Waring accompanied her, his voice sustaining hers
admirably. Again De Vane was subdued, and could only
bow, as the song ceased and she rose from her seat.
"That," said Mr. Clarendon, "excels the Miserere," and
then added: "Is that line of the first song which you gave
us, Miss Wordsworth-where the prints which feet leave
on Tampa's desert strand are introduced-correct? Does
not the writer mean Tempe?"
"I should refer that critical difficulty to you for solution," she replied.
" Well, I am.a little puzzled about it," said he.
"I think," said De Vane, "that the author of the lines
means what he has written. The vale of Tempe in Thessaly, can hardly be called desert, for its charms are well
known, and the banks of the Peneus, which flows through
it, could not, by even poetical license, be described as a
strand.
"What, then, can he mean? Where is Tampa?" said
Mr. Clarendon.
"It is on the coast of Florida," said De Vane. "It so
happened that I made a visit to that coast just before I




DE VANE.                   41
entered college; and hearing the temperature of Tampa
spoken of as favorable to invalids, I passed some weeks
there. A more sad and even desert strand I do not know
anywhere; and the wail of the sea on the lone shore is the
most mournful of earthly sounds."
"You have solved the problem," said Mr. Clarendon.
"I thought Wilde had been using his prerogative as a
poet somewhat freely; for I remember how the valley of
Tempe impressed me with its wild beauty-Ossa on the
one side, and Olympus, rich with its woody and herbage,
on the other. It was not a desert."
De Vane had made a life-long friend of Mr. Clarendon.
Before taking leave of Mrs. Springfield, he said to her:
"Madam, I commend that young Virginian to you.
He is my countryman, and I am proud of him. If I read
him rightly, Virginia will be still prouder of him."
The evening closed. The guests departed, and De Vane
felt as if his real life had just begun. Light had spread
over his soul as over the young world, when it was said:
"The evening and the morning were the first day."




CHAPTER V.
MOTHER, mother, up in heaven,
Stand up on the jasper sea,
And be witness I have given
All the gifts required of me.
ELIZABETH BARRETT BRowNING.
WHEN Saturday came —the college exercises being suspended, that the students might seek recreation outside of
the grounds-Waring and De Vane walked together into
the town.
When we first love, a new glory seems to overspread
the face of nature.- The soul invests every object with its
own hue; the heavens above and the earth beneath, yield
us their sympathy; and hope sheds a glow, surpassing the
splendor of tropical sunlight, over all the future. De
Vane thought he had never beheld a season so lovely.
The autumnal glories which met his view; the leaves just
changing their hues under the early frost; the lingering
roses which breathed their fragrance upon the pure air;
the songs of birds that never deserted the spot where they
uttered their first notes in spring for a milder climate, even
in winter-all made the little world about him seem a far
brighter region than the happy valley of Rasselas.
" Waring," said he, " you were to take me to see Miss
Wordsworth's school; shall we go there now?"
Waring smiled.  " Why, De Vane," said he, " this is a
holiday, and we shall not find Miss Wordsworth there."
"Still," said Deq Vane, "I should like to see the place
(42)




DE VANE.                    43
where she spends her days. How is it that she can bring
herself to submit to such drudgery?"
"I shall answer you as Philip did, when Nathanael
asked him if any good thing could come out of Nazareth:'Come and see.'"
In the eastern part of the town, not very far from the
public garden, which De Vane had already visited in company with Waring, there was another, covering some two
acres of ground, inclosed with a neat fence, inside of which
was a hedge of wild orange-trees, that shut in the grounds
from observation. The two students entered the gate,
and found themselves in the midst of- evergreens, so rich
and profuse, that De Vane felt as if he had been suddenly
transported to the tropics. Hardy flowers-such as required little cultivation-bloomed still, and a few rare
ones were seen protected by the vigorous shrubbery near
them. Winding walks led through the grounds, neatly
kept, and they converged upon a central spot, where a
small edifice, in the cottage style, stood. The main building was a framed structure of two stories, with a wing on
either end, and with light piazzas connecting with the
porch of the principal house. Creepers covered it almost
completely, the ivy climbing to the very top of the chimneys, and.waving its branches like little banners. A broad
gravelled walk passed quite around the house, cutting it
off like an island from the surrounding garden. As the
students approached the house, they met an old, respectable-looking black man, with a rake in his hand, who at
once recognized Waring, and evidently regarded him as a
friend.
" How are you this morning, Uncle Jacob?" exclaimed
Waring.
"Thank the Lord, Master Waring," said the old man,
taking off his hat, " I'm well; and I hope I sees you well,
too."




44                    DE VANE.
" Yes, thank you," said Waring; " and I have brought
my young friend here to see the school. He's from Vir
ginia."
"Mighty glad to see him," said the old man; "I'm
from Virginny, too."
"Are you, indeed, Uncle Jacob?" said De Vane heartily; "then I'm your countryman, and we must get to be
good friends."
Old Jacob was highly gratified, and he bowed very
humbly to the young gentleman, scraping his foot under
him as he bent his head low.
"Is Mrs. Greene at home?" asked Waring.
" Oh! yes, master, and my Missis, too," said Jacob.
"What! is Miss Wordsworth here? Why, Uncle Jacob, it's Saturday-don't she give holiday?"
"Yes, master; but she comes sometimes Saturday, too;
and she fetched a little girl with her to-day, that an't
been here before."
Bidding the old man good morning, the gentlemen
walked directly to the house.
"That old negro," said De Vane, "is thoroughly wellbred."
"Yes," replied Waring, " I have often observed it; he
belongs to Miss Wordsworth -was one of her father's
slaves-and is now a sort of patriarch. She keeps him
employed here in looking after the grounds; and he is as
happy as the days are long."
"His language is good," said De Vane; " and he seems
to be as humble as if he had never been indulged."
"Yes, he loves his young mistress-thinks himself too
happy in being permitted to serve her; and he is a Christian."
By this time they had reached the house. Waring
knocked at the door, and it was opened by the little girl
who had accompanied Esther to the book-store.  She




DE VANE.                    45
looked up into Waring's face with a bright smile, and
asked him to walk in.
"How are you this morning, Mary?" said Waring,
stooping to kiss the child. " Do you not remember this
gentleman?"
" Oh! yes, sir; I saw him with you at the book-store."
De Vane took her hand, and thanked her for not having
forgotten him.
They entered the little hall of the cottage; and Mary,
throwing open the door of the room on the right, invited
them to follow her. As they entered, they found Esther
seated on a low chair, two or three little girls standing
by her, and a still smaller child seated on a cushion at her
feet; a bright fire blazed on the hearth, neat, simple furniture was arranged in the room tastefully, and chintz
curtains hung from the windows; a middle-aged, respectable-looking woman stood near the group. It was a picture which De Vane never ceased to remember; a picture
hung forever in the chamber of his memory, and which he
would not have exchanged'for Raphael's master-piece, or
Claude Lorraine's chef d'oeuvres.
Esther turned her face quickly toward the gentlemen as
she heard their tread on the floor, and a glow overspread
her face, rising to her very temples; her attitude was one
of perfect grace; and DeVane felt that nothing in the
whole range of classical mythology, neither nymph nor
goddess, could rival her as she sat startled, and for a moment moveless; the profuse curls falling from her uplifted face, the lips parted, and the eyes flashing with an
earnest glance.
" We owe you an humble acknowledgment of our rudeness in trespassing upon you, Miss Wordsworth," said
Waring; "but we did not know until we entered your
grounds that we should find you here."
De Vane said nothing, but bcwed very low. Esther




46                     DE VANE.
rose and shook hands with them, and expressed her grati
fication at their visit.
"I am pleased, Mr. Waring, to see that you and your
friend feel any interest whatever in my little retreat. I
am not usually here on Saturday, but came to-day to brinr
a new pupil."
She then introduced the gentlemen to Mrs. Green"my assistant," as she said graciously, "in the task of
taking care of these little people."
She turned to the girl, who still kept her seat on the
cushion, and taking her hand, raised her to her feet. She
was a child of great beauty, apparently some six years of
age, whose dark eyes and glossy black curls presented a
perfect contrast to those of the friend who had just
brought her from her desolate home to this "retreat," as
she named it.
"You remember, Mr. De Vane, do you not, that you
heard at Mrs. Springfield's-a very painful narrative of a
sudden death, and of a little girl left without parents, or
a near relative in all the world? Well, this is the child.
Her mother died about six weeks since, and last Thursday her father, a young man of excellent character, while
standing upon a scaffold, fell backward and was instantly
killed. This was the only child, and I have brought her
here, that she may be cared for. I was just taking leave
of her as you entered, having brought about her some two
or three little girls, who will try to make her happy."
She added not a word, but invited the gentlemen to
walk through the grounds with her. De Vane's astonishment could not be expressed.  That one so young, so
bright, so accomplished, so full of sympathy with all that
was beautiful in nature, in books, in the living world, could
pass so many hours in the task of instructing little girls
how to read, to write, to sing-he could not comprehend.
He could imagine a lady of fortune bestowing her ample




DE VANE.                     47
means in charity-in founding a hospital-or in establishing a school, and in employing others to take the druldgery of the benevolent scheme; but that the brightness of
one's own youth should be surrendered to this repulsive
labor, was a scale of self-sacrifice he had not contemplated.
His love deepened almost into reverence; and he followed
her steps silently as she walked with Waring in advance
of him. Reaching a spot somewhat lower than the level
upon which the house stood, they came to a spring of
water which bubbled out of the gravelly slope, and emptied into a small marble basin. Trees of larger growth
than those in other parts of the grounds sheltered the
spot, and broke the fiery splendors of even a Southern
mid-day sun. - To-day, the clear sunshine glancing through
the trees, imparted to them variegated lights and shadows; and the view of the higher grounds was as if an artist of surpassing skill had spread the rich tapestry of the
looms of France over them. Seats were ranged around
the spring, and the party resting upon them surveyed the
limited but exquisite landscape.
" I wonder, Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, " that I
never discovered this enchanted spot before; its loveliness
would have tempted me to visit it often."
"Do you love nature?" asked Esther.
"Earnestly, passionately," said De Vane.  "In the
primeval forests of Virginia I have learned almost to worship her."
"It is a taste in which I fully sympathize; and I have
striven here to shut out the sights and sounds which disturb the perfect repose of nature."
"Feeling, I suppose, with Cowper that'God made the country, but man made the town.'
You wish to spread here, at the very base of this gay capital, the triumphs of nature."




48                     DE VANTI
"Yes," said Esther, "I have an intenser consciousness
of the presence of God in the midst of trees and flowers
than I can have here in the streets, or even in the houses
about us. Do you recall Thomson's lines?'The love of nature works,
And warms the bosom, till, at last, sublimed
To rapture and enthusiastic heat,
We feel the present Deity, and taste
The joy of God to see a happy world! "
"When very young," replied IDe Vane, " I learned to
love Thomson; for my youth was passed in the country,
and I observed the seasons, as we study the human face;
and the descriptions which he gives might, many of them,
have been written in the presence of our own landscapes.
Albemarle, Miss Wordsworth, is unrivalled for its scenery."
"So I must believe from what I have heard of it from
others, but I have not yet seen that part of Virginia.
Passing over the Piedmont road, and entering the mountain range of Southern Virginia, I have been deeply impressed with the grandeur of the scenery."
"You must not concede, Miss Wordsworth," said Waring, " that Virginia has all the fine scenery in the country.
The State pride of my friend is already too great, and
we must bring that down, if we can not level his boasted
mountains."
De Vane smiled, and asked: "Where, short of Niagara,
is there any suth scenery?"
"On the French-Broad," replied Waring, "to say nothing of Upper Georgia, with its waterfalls second only to
Niagara."
"The French-Broad!" exclaimed De Vane. "I never
saw it, but surely its scenery can not rival ours."
"The scenery along the banks of the French-Broad is
wonderfully fine. Set out in the morning from the warm




DE VANE.                    49
springs of North-Carolina, and make the day's travel to
Ashville, and you will be amazed and bewildered. The
river cuts its way through mountains. They rise in steep
precipices hundreds of feet above it on both sides, fringed
with laurel and variegated shrubbery to the very summit.
Much of the road is made by cutting away Wte solid rock,
and the wheels of your carriage actually dip in the stream
on the'one side, while they scrape the mountain-rock on
the other side."
"I must at sometime see it," said Esther. "I did not
suppose that any thing so wild could be found in our
southern country."
" Such scenery in Europe," replied Waring, " would attract thousands of travelers from remote parts, and would
be world-renowned."
The gentlemen, after some further conversation, rose
to take leave of Esther, who invited them to visit her
grounds, as often as it might be agreeable to them to do
so. De Vane assured her of the pleasure it would afford
him to avail himself of her gracious invitation; and, bowing low to her, followed Waring, who had already preceded him in the walk.
When they were once more in the streets, De Vane put
his arm in that of Waring, and said: " I must understand
all this. What does it mean, Waring?"
" What?" replied the other. "What is there that you
do not understand?"
"When I first met Miss Wordsworth, you told me she
was a Methodist. Afterward I learned she was a teacher.
To-day I find that she has established a home for friendless
little girls, and that she passes the greater part of her
time there. Why should one so young, so bright, so qualified to adorn society, give so much of her time to such
tasks?"
Waring walked on for some min-tes before he spoke;
he then said: " De Vane, I respect you, Allow me to




50                    DE VANE.
say, I know your high qualities, and am sincerely your
fiiend. But I am a friend also to truth. You admire Miss
Wordsworth, that is plain; but you can not appreciate
her. Your aristocratic tastes and habits unfit you for it;
you are incapable of self-denying labors, except such as
ambition prompts; and you are unable to comprehend
how a young, bright, joyous nature can unostentatiously
seek to do good, following the humble, the poor, and the
outcast into their revolting abodes, that she may rescue
and save them. The whole philosophy of Miss Wordsworth's life is to be found in the simple obedience of childlike faith:  If any man will be my disciple, let him take
up his cross daily, and follow me.'!'
De Vane was touched. He felt that Waring's rebuke
was not unjust, and he knew it was not intended to be
harsh.  He had almost shrunk from  Esther, when he'earned that she was a Methodist. He was shocked when
he supposed that she was a teacher; and but for the casual
meeting at the book-store, where he discovered the extraordinary wealth of her mind, he might not have sought
to know more of her. And even now, when he had discovered that she did not teach from any reference to pecuniary reward, but solely under the influence of a high sentiment, he felt that he could not sympathize with that sentiment, however much he respected it, and he feared that
her virtues were of too severe a cast. He scarcely knew
how to answer Waring, but he said frankly:
"I may not be able to feel the dominion of a great religious principle, or the ascendency of a purely religious
sentiment, as Miss Wordsworth does, or as you do, Waring; but still I must revere the principle, and admire the
sentiment, as I do whatever is really noble."
"Miss Wordsworth," said Waring, " is a very uncommon person. You, of course, see her beauty, and are impressed with her extraordinary intellectual qualities; her
training. has been such as to give her a range of thought




DE VANE.                    51
and of sentiment quite out of the line which you have
been accustomed to observe. Her parents, as you already
know, are both dead, her mother surviving her husband
but a short time. When she felt the approach of deathstill conscious and resolute-she called for writing materials, andt addressed a letter to her child. She impressed
on her young mind, even then-and the impression deepened with every year as she grew, and read, and re-read
the dying message —the importance of living for others.
And she enjoined it upon her not to squander the ample
fortune which she would inherit upon false objects, but to
devote much of it to the training of orphan little girls,
without father or mother, like herself, in the way to
heaven. That as her father had died young, giving his
life a sacrifice for those whom Christ had bought with his
own blood; and as she, her mother, was about to follow him
to a world of bliss, it was her duty to carry out their wishes in consecrating herself in some good measure while yet
young, to active ministrations, for the good of those who,
like herself in orphanage, were not like her in fortune.
She has faithfully followed the counsels of her saintly
mother. She will not consent yet to commit to others the
entire care of these young beings; and while she has established this home, which you have seen to-day, out of
her abounding means, and employed a trustworthy person,
Mrs. Green, to take charge of them, she will teach them
herself. Otherwise she would be but giving of her abundance, but it would be no consecration of herself."
"It is glorious," exclaimed De Vane. " I begin to comprehend how the woman that brought the alabaster box
of precious ointment to anoint the head of the Saviour,
not content with that costly sacrifice, poured the richer
tribute of her tears upon his feet, and wiped them with
the hairs of her head."
Waring turned upon him a face beaming with satisfaction, but said not a word.




CHAPTER  VI.
"THE vague but manly wish to tread the maze
Of life, to noble ends."
AUBREY DiE VERE.
NOVEMBER came; the closing examination of the Senior
Class was very near, and De Vane plunged into his studies
deeper than ever. He would not indulge himself in a single visit to Esther. He loved, and loved profoundly, but
ambition swayed him in these closing weeks of his college
career, and love stood by, waiting for the day of his deliverance.
The day at length came. The examination was passed,
and De Vane was awarded a diploma, and an honor; not
so high an honor as he had hoped for. But he felt that
his course had been irregular;'that he had given to some
branches of study greater attention than he had bestowed
on others, and that there were those in the class who,
taking the whole course, excelled him. In some of his
studies he was peerless; and as these were his favorite
studies, he was satisfied. Then, too, he had the Valedictory of his Society to deliver, and this soothed himcheered him indeed-for it was a great distinction, being
conferred by the students themselves, who were his peers.
The highest honor was given to Waring, and at this De
Vane rejoiced.  Congratulating his friend, De Vane
sought Professor Niles, and urged him to prevail on the
Faculty to excuse him from preparing an oration for Com(52)




DE VANE.                     53
mencement-day, as he had to appear in the evening to deliver his Valedictory. His request was granted.
Relieved now from the pressure of College duties, the
whole tide of his nature flowed with impetuous current
toward Esther.
He sat down and wrote to Mrs. De Vane, giving her a
full account of his course as a student, and requesting his
aunt to obtain his father's consent for him to remain where
he was, that he might enter the office of Mr. Clarendon,
and study the law. In his letter he could not omit some
mention of Esther, and of Mr. and Mrs. Springfield, describing them in language sufficiently glowing to interest his
aunt, while he made no revelation of his love. He wrote
also to his father, limiting himself to an expression of his
wish to read law in the office of Mr. Clarendon, and describing him as a Virginian, a rising man, a brilliant orator, and an accomplished gentleman.
The Legislature assembled; eminent men from all parts
of the State coming to the capital, to sojourn during the
brief but brilliant session, which did not usually transcend
four weeks.
The Governor was elected-a gentleman of wealth and
great worth, residing-at the capital-and a day was fixed
for his inauguration. Waring was too much engrossed in
preparing his speech for Commencement to-attend, interesting as the event always was, and much as he respected
the Governor-elect; so that De Vane went to the StateHouse alone. It was thronged  floor and galleries were
densely packed. De Vane made his way into the lobby of
the Representative Hall, and was standing near the door,
when Mr. Clarendon saw him, and bowed to him. He was
standing at the end of a-sofa, upon which three ladies were
seated, and De Vane recognized Esther as one of them.
He observed Mir. Clarendon speak to her; she turned her
face, saw De Vane, and bowed. He felt the blood rush




54                    DE VANE.
through his veins wildly, and his frame almost shook with
emotion.  They had not met since the hour they had
passed in her garden; and he did not, until this moment,
when he saw her once more, comprehend her absolute
power over him when he was in her presence. It was as
if he approached the shrine of some celestial being, who
spread around the sacred spot an enchantment too potent
to be resisted. Yielding to an impulse which he could not
resist, he made his way through the crowded lobby to the
sofa where she was seated. Mr. Clarendon extended his
hand to him, in welcome.
" Gallantly done, sir," said he. "I applaud your spirit,
and think you have won your spurs."
De Vane smiled, and bowing very low to Esther, said:
" It has been so long, Miss Wordsworth, since I met you,
that I could not deny myself the pleasure of coming to
you, even through such obstructions."
"I am very much pleased to see you, Mr. De Vane,"
she replied, raising her sincere, soul-lit eyes, while a glow
overspread her face. "You have been so engrossed with
your studies, I learn, that you denied us the gratification
of seeing you. So Mr. Waring informed us."
"Ah! Waring. is a generous friend, and he has been
studying to some purpose," he said; " he bears away the
great prize."
"Yes; but he says that he is not sure you were not entitled to it; he speaks of you with enthusiasm."
"I suspect, Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Clarendon, "that
you resemble me somewhat-if you will allow me to say
so. You yielded to your tastes, and pursued such studies
with ardor as gratified them."
"You are quite right, sir; nor do I regret it. Waring's
thorough scholarship, however, fairly entitled him to the
distinction which he obtained, against all possible competition."




DE VANE.                     55
"My friend, Professor Niles," said Mr. Clarendon, " was
strongly disposed to place you at the head of the class, as
I happen to know."
The two ladies seated by Esther listened eagerly to the
conversation. One of them was Mirs. Clarendon, a splendid woman, of marvelous beauty. Her hair was very dark
chestnut, and her eyes so deeply blue, that they might.in
shadow be mistaken for black. Above the medium height,
her person was disposed to fullness, and yet her form was
rounded. and graceful. The traces of declining health could
be seen in her fine face, slightly touched with sadness.
The other was the wife of a Senator fiom the sea-board.
She was a blonde; her blue eyes, and light hair, which
floated about her face in soft curls, gave her the appearance of extreme youth. She was almost fragile, and yet
animated, and very lovely. Still De Vane felt that Esther
was peerless, and he yielded her from the depths of his
soul, a homage more intense than that which Eastern idolatry pays to its divinity.
A gun was heard, announcing the arrival of the Governor, and the ladies started, as the windows shook with
the reverberation. A burst of music followed; and presently the Governor, with his attendants, entered, and the
Speaker, in his blue silk gown, met him, conducted him
to the platform, and the usual forms of the inauguration
followed.
When they were ended, De Vane accompanied Esther,
following Mr. Clarendon, who escorted the two ladies.
The carriage was drawn up near the entrance to the
grounds, and the three ladies entered it and drove away.
"Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Clarendon, "you must not
leave us. What do you propose to do with yourself?"
"It is my wish, sir," said he, " to remain here and read.
law. I have written to Virginia, asking my father's permission to do so."




56                    DE VANE.
"I am very glad to hear it," replied Mr. Clarendon.
"Why not come into my office?"
" It is just what I propose to do, Mr. Clarendon, if my
father should approve my plans."
"This is the place for you," said the other, taking out
of his pocket a very handsome snuff-box, and offering the
fragrant tobacco to De Vane; " this is the very place for
you.  With your tastes, and, I shall add, your talents,
you will find here an ample field."  De Vane bowed.
" I prefer it to Virginia, taking all things into the account, and so will you."
He fixed his eyes upon De Vane's face, looked at him
steadily for a minute, and then, lifting his hat, took leave
of the young student with a bow of stately grace.
De Vane was fascinated. Attentions from eminent men
are very grateful to the young, the ardent, the ambitious.
It is delightful to be appreciated, especially by great souls;
and the young student, full of noble and generous qualities
himself, yielded to the grand nature of the man who had just
turned away from him, the tribute of boundless admiration.
"lMehercule! Waring," said he, rushing into, his apartment upon reaching the College, " what a magnificent man
Clarendon is-!"
"The whole world will soon acknowledge that," said
Waring; "but what has happened to make you so enthusiastic about him just now?"
De Vane gave his friend a description of what lad transpired at the capitol-the inauguration, his seeing Miss
Wordsworth, his presentation to the ladies who were with
her, and his interview with Mr. Clarendon.
" And after all that, you feel it necessary to invoke the
aid of your friend Hercules, to help you sustain the burden of accumulating honors-do you?"
De Vane laughed. " Ah!" said he, " you know, Waring,
I never swear."




CHAPTER VII.
EACH one of us, perchance, may here,
On some blue morn hereafter,
Return to view the' gaudy year,
But not with boyish laughter:
We shall then be wrinkled men,
Our brows with silver laden,
And-thou this glen may'st seek again,
But never more a maiden.
THOMAS WILLIAM PARSONS.
THE College chapel began early in the day to show signs
of a great occasion. Alany seats were already filled. Carriages dashed through the Campus, bringing new-comers,
and crowds of pedestrians made their way across it. Certain reserved  seats were guarded by a committee composed of students, wearing badges. The stage was carpeted; chairs were placed thickly upon it, and the President's black servant, Scipio, (the students added Africanus
to his name,) bustled about with an air as important as if
the weight of the whole establishment rested on his sable
shoulders.   The younger students usually  greeted  his
appearance with a shrill whistle; but he was much too
grave to-day to pay the least attention to any such liberties.  In the middle of the Campus, in striking contrast to
all the surrounding activity and excitement, Dr. Hume's
white mare, Blanche, grazed peacefully, enjoying the lingering herbage which survived the mild approach of winter.  She was well known to the students, who sometimes
exercised their skill shaping her mane and tail to suit their
3                   (57)




68                    DE VANE.
own taste, of which the Doctor never complained and
Blanche seemed unconscious.
Then came the long procession of official persons. It
had formed at the State House, and was now entering
the wide western gate of the grounds. The Governor
and Trustees, the Senators, the Representatives-all came,
the dignitaries wearing their robes of -office. As they
entered the chapel, the whole audience rose to their feet.
The Governor and Trustees ascended the platform  and
took their seats with the Faculty.  The scene was a
brilliant one. Official persons of the highest dignity laid
aside their occupations to be present; for it was the policy
of the State to cheer, by its countenance, as well as foster
by its means, the noble institution, which already was a
glory in the midst of it, crowning its brow like a diadem
flashing with precious stones. Its graduates, some of them,
were even now men of renown.
Ladies, too, in their rich and showy attire, made the
place radiant; and Mirs. Springfield and Esther were seen
by De Vane about midway in the chapel, seated by Mrs.
Clarendon.  Near them were two ladies, one of them,
who seemed to be about forty years of age, with a complexion of extraordinary whiteness, and large, dark eyes.
The other was a much younger person, scarcely above
twenty, and her beauty was imperial. Classical in her whole
aspect and form, her dark eyes fullof lambent fire, and her
rich, black hair, thrown back from the face, worn in a style
quite unlike that of other ladies, she reminded De Vane of
Aspasia in the full glory of her charms. The elder of the
two ladies was dressed in rich mourning costume; the
younger wore a dress of black velvet trimmed with lace,
and her hat, which was singularly becoming to her, was
of the same material; a diamond buckle, fastening the dark
plume on the hat, flashed with every movement of her
head. Seated by Waring on the platform, De Vane turned




DE VANE.                     59
to him, and called his attention to the party of ladies, and
asked who the persons were, seated on the right of Mrs.
Clarendon. He replied that they were unknown to him.
A burst of music from the band opened the programme.
Then came the orations, Waring leading the way with the
salutatory in Latin, which he uttered so as to give full
effect to the majesty of the language. After the several
orations were ended, the President rose, and walked to the
middle of the platform. He was very short, with a large,
finely formed head and intellectual face; the expression was
that of great benevolence. His hair, now gray, had fallen
off from the front of the head, leaving the temples bare, and
the large zigzag veins on either side of the forehead were
visible, through which the blood coursed like lightning.
His waddling gait, short stature, and bent form, together
with his strikingly intellectual head and face, presented a
grotesque blending of different elements, and suggested
the grave and ludicrous. The graduating class formed
about him. He delivered a brief address to them, marked
with practical sense and tinged with politics, handed to
each his diploma; and then, the band playing a national
air, the audience dispersed.
Mrs. Springfield and Esther waited to speak with Waring, who, with De Vane by his side, advanced to the
ladies, and received their warm congratulations.
"Mr. Springfield," said Mrs. Springfield, " was called to.
the country yesterday, and expected to be here this morning. I know how deeply he will regret the loss of your
oration to-day. And, Mr. De Vane, we shall all come to
hear you this evening." He bowed very low.
"Mr. De Vane well knows," said Esther, "the interest
which my uncle feels in him, and he will certainly join us."
"To be appreciated by Mr. Springfield," he replied, is
very flattering to me; if I could only approach his standard, I should be most fortunate."




60                    DE VANE.
The ladies were evidently gratified at this tribute to
one so much admired and beloved by them, for their faces
beamed upon the young student.
The evening came. The chapel was again filled to its
utmost capacity, and brilliantly lighted. The students
had evidently exerted themselves to make the evening
eclipse the splendor of the morning.
Again Mrs. Springfield and Esther'were present, attended by Mr. Springfield and Waring, and seated nearer
to the stage than in the morning. There, too, was Mr.
Clarendon, this time in attendance on the ladies who had
attracted De Vane's attention in the morning.
The Faculty were out in forces Professor Niles seated
nearest the spot where his young friend was to stand, and
his young, beautiful wife, full of animation, sat by his side.
The orator was announced. He came forward full of
dignity and grace, blending the self-possession of manhood
with the sensibility of extreme youth. A burst of applause greeted him, (he was a great favorite in the College,)
and he bowed very low in recognition of the tribute.
Every eye was fixed on him; and Esther felt her heart
beat quicker than usual. De Vane had never breathed a
word of love to her, but it would have been impossible
not to see the admiration which his manner toward her
always revealed when in her presence. She had not analyzed her heart; she was really unconscious of the depth
of the interest which she felt in the young student; and
she was ready now to chide herself for the emotion which
she experienced. She had never loved; her soul was as
fresh as Paradise before a cloud flitted over' it, and from
those pure lips no sigh had ever been breathed laden with
any earthly passion. She became very pale, and feared
that her aunt might observe how deeply she was moved.
" Esther," said Mrs. Springfield, turning to her as the
applause died away,  this is enough to spoil our young
VI i-Inan."




DE VANE.                      61
She did not reply.
The subject of De Vane's oration was Classical Learning.  It was a magnificent argument in defence of a
generous education. The enriching influence of an acquaintance with the works of antiquity was exhibited;
and Milton's example and authority were adduced in support of the proposition, that such learning best fitted a
man for a high performance of the great tasks of life. The
val.ue of common-schools was not underrated; but it was
insisted that an exalted training of even a few minds did
more toward advancing the progress of our race, than
the widest diffusion of the mere elements of knowledge.
One illustration was received with rapturous applause.
"The rising  sun," said  the  orator, "first gilds the
summit of the Alps, and afterward pours his splendors
upon the mountain slopes, until, reaching the highest
heavens, he bathes the valleys with his broad and fertilizing beams. So, in the world of letters, the leading minds
catch the first glories of humanizing light, and reflect
them from their elevated stand-points upon the surrounding world."
The leave-taking, in the closing part of the speech, was
in fine taste, characterized by manliness, and yet imbued
with sensibility. Deafening applause greeted De Vane
as he took his seat; and Professor Niles, rising, was the
first to grasp his hand. The other members of the Faculty
offered their congratulations, and the leading students
rushed forward eagerly, to pay their enthusiastic tribute
to their splendid representative. It was a complete success-a triumph.
" Mr. Waring," said Mr. Springfield, " your young friend
must be looked after.  Such a mind must be made acquainted with something higher than classical learning;
he must be brought under the influence of that power invoked by Milton, whom he seems so much to admire:




62                       DE VANE.'And chiefly thou, 0 spirit! that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure,
Instruct me.'
He will then learn how  much  sublimer are inspired
themes than even the most heroic of heathen exploits;
for his own great poet is described by Barrow as singing
in worthy lines-the war in heaven:'Stat dubius cui'se parti concedat Olympus,
Et metuit pugnce ne superesse sue, -
At simul in coelis Messice insignia fulgent,
Et currus animes, armaque digna D)eo.' "
"Oh!" exclaimed Mrs. Springfield, "it is so fine."
Esther said not a word; but, the color had returned to
her face; for it now glowed-she was radiant.
"Yes," said Waring, "I have long known what De
Vane can do. His future involves a degree of responsibility nothing short of fearful."
"Mr. Clarendon was seen to quit the ladies under his
charge, for a moment; and advancing toward De Vane,
who had now descended from the stage, and was coming
to where Mr. Springfield and his party stood, he grasped
the young student's hand in both his, and said:
"I thank you, sir!   Every man who loves the classics
is indebted to you."
De Vane bowed with quiet dignity, but did not attempt
to reply.  His eyes sought Esther.  She had seen and
heard all; and as he reached the group where she stood,
she greeted him with an uncontrollable flash of joyous
sympathy, which.sent its radiance into the depths of the
young student's soul, with as bright a glory as a cloudless
summer morning sheds over a landscape.




CHAPTER VIII.
" FORGIVE me, if I can not turn away
From those sweet eyes that are my earthly heaven;
For they are guiding stars, benignly given
To tempt my footsteps to the upward way;
And if I dwell too fondly in thy sight,
I live and love in God's peculiar light."
COLERIDGE: Michael Angelo.
DE VANE'S College course was now ended, and the great
world opened before him.  There comes in life but one
such  season.  The spring, with its all-vivifying fervor,
comes upon nature with each recurring year; but it warms
the human heart once, never to revisit it. When its promise deepens into the summer verdure, we look for the
matured fruits, and then the autumnal glories, closing
with the long, long winter.
Letters came to De Vane from  home.  His father approved his plans, and expressed his satisfaction at his
course.  Mr. Clarendon's family were known to him; but
he had never met that gentleman-his reputation he was
acquainted with-and General De Vane was gratified that
his son was to enjoy the advantages, which an intimate
association with such a man was sure to yield.  He gave
him his views, at some length, of public affairs, and looked
forward to a complete triumph throughout the country, of
his party, at the approaching election for the Presidency.
" You will, of course, have read," he continued, " the late
speech of Mr. Randolph. He denounces the Administration
in just terms, and characterizes its abuses in language so
(63)




64                    DE VANE.
severe, that it is thought the leading Cabinet Minister
will call him out. I should regret this, for I admire the
splendid abilities of that gentleman, nor do I give credence
for a moment to the injurious suggestions which are made
as to the terms of his obtaining office. His public services and his statesmanship entitled him to the position
preeminently; and I know him too well to believe that
he would sully his honor by a corrupt, or even humiliating
agreement, in regard to any office. But I do agree with
the strong classical figure which Mr. Randolph employs
to describe the state of affairs at Washington. The Augean
stable needs cleansing, and I think we have the Hercules
who will accomplish the task."
The letter from his aunt was very long.  It gave him
the details of home affairs, in which he felt a deep interest,
and which Mrs. De Vane recounted with charming fidelity.'His home rose before him: his books, his servants, his
horses-all came to view vividly; and he breathed once
more the native mountain air, which had exhilarated his
early youth. Passing to other matters, she wrote:
I observe, my dear George, that you have found new
friends lately, and found them, too, where I should hardly
have looked for them-in the family of a Methodist minister. It seems he is not a clergyman, but one of Mr. Wesley's lay preachers. Do not understand me to mean that
I disapprove you seeing such people; but I wish to guard
you against an intimate acquaintance with them, or an
intercourse so frequent as to bring you under their influence. I do not doubt that very good people are found
among the Methodists. I have known such myself, and
some of their preachers are men of great oratorical
power. But a few days since I attended the chapel in our
neighborhood, and heard Bishop McKendree, really a
venerable man, and a most eloquent preacher.  I was
charmed with him, and under his sermon my tears fell




DE VANE.                     65
like rain. He was stopping for two or three days with our
friends, the Hamiltons, who are Methodists, you know,
and as refined and cultivated as any persons of my acquaintance; but they are exceptions, you understand, to a
rule so general, that I should hardly expect to find another
family like them. Your description of Miss Wordsworth,
I confess, interests me. Such beauty, such culture, such
refinement, and such a self-sacrificing spirit, one rarely
meets in any circle. But, dear George, have you not a
little eleve la vertu de votre sainte   According to your description, she is quite a Saint Cecilia; and Malibran can not
rival her. Prenez garde! M-  y George, the illusion which
love sheds around youth and beauty often misleads us.
" The Guilfords have just returned from Europe. Clara
is wonderfully improved; and she remembers you vividly.
I did not venture to inform herbf your enthusiastic admiration of the young Methodist; it would have been cruel.
"Have you read the last book of Sir Walter Scott's,
which has just been published, The Fair Maid of Perth?
Remember that'eagles must not pair with linnets.' Do
not neglect your French. I like your sketch of the riverbank, the ferry-boats, and the soft landscape. What is
Mr. Waring to do with himself-your first-honor man?
He ought to shine. God bless you, my dear George.
"Yours, with true affection,    HESTER DE VANE.
"P. S.-The Guilfords have this moment called. I forgot
to say that Mr. Randolph spent yesterday with us, and
asked after you with interest. He is charmed with your
course as a student, and says that he knew you promised
well; for you learned, when young, the three great accomplishments-' to ride, to shoot, and to speak the truth.'
"H. DE V."
The lights and shadows that flitted over De Vane's face
as he read his aunt's letter were like those which we see




66.DE VANE.
on a summer landscape, when light clouds fly through the
sky. He loved Mrs. De Vane dearly, and respected her
judgment and taste, and the light way in which she spoke
of Esther and her friends disturbed him. The strong feeling
of caste, which was deep in his-nature, was roused, and he
felt his patrician tastes powerfully revived by the description of the Guilfords, a family of great wealth and of high
ancestral pride. Their estate was the largest in Virginia,
and the lands had descended from father to son through
every generation since John Guilford-a younger brother
of an English nobleman-first settled in the country.
Clara he well remembered as a brilliant and attractive
girl, dashing fearlessly on her spirited horse over the
mountain-roads; for he had often accompanied her, when
she had tasked his horsemanship in leaping ravines, and
sometimes rail fences. Sh. had now been in England on a
visit to her relatives, for the families still kept up a frequent. intercourse. How resplendent she must be, how
superbly she would grace the mansion of a gentlemansympathizing with all his tastes, and adorning his whole
career!
He had walked to the public garden to read his letters,
and he now paced through the broad walks, plunged in
thoughts which made him insensible to every thing about
him. Turning into one of the less frequented walks, he
found little Mary Sinclair, seated on one of the benches,
with a book in her hand, and the beautiful child whom De
Vane remembered that he had seen seated at the feet of
Esther upon his first visit to her school. They were enjoying the warm sunshine which, even on a December
day, bathed the spot where they sat with the temperature
of May in less favored climes. Mary knew him instantly,
and her face beamed with pleasure as he approached.
Rising from her seat, she gave him her hand with the
sweet confidence of innocent childhood, unheeding aristo



DE VANE.                     67
cratic distinctions or the world's cold rules. De Vane was
touched, and stooping down, he kissed the bright little
cheek before him. She had come at this moment when the
great world of state and fashion was spreading its attractions before the eyes of De Vane and shaking its gleaming
gifts in his view, like a bird from some dear retreat which
he knew and loved, to make its mute appeal to his better
nature. Who has not, by a sight or a sound, been recalled
from the dreams of ambition or the schemes of worldliness?
The tones of music recall our fresh youth, our early love,
our dear loyal friends long since parted and gone, and a
glance of loving eyes melts in an instant the frost-work
which had been forming about our hearts. Let the Switzer wander where he may, the RRanz ces Vaches brings to
his view the loved valleys of his childhood, and nature asserting her supremacy, he gives the tribute of his tears to
the home of his happiest and most innocent hours.
"So you are out to-day, Mary," said De Vane. "Is it a
holiday?"
"No, sir," replied the little girl; " Miss Esther sent me
with Susan to the book-store to get a book which she had
promised her, and we were just returning. We stopped
here to rest a little while, as Susan can not walk so fast as
I do, writhout becoming tired."
" And where is Miss Wordsworth?"
"At the cottage," she replied. " Mrs. Green is not very
well to-day, and Miss Esther would not leave her till her
headache got better. And," she added,  we must now go
on, for she will be uneasy if we stay out too long."
"Well," said De Vane, "I will go with you."  And
taking the hand of little Susan, he walked by the side of
the child.. A few minutes' walk brought them to Esther's.
inclosure, and opening the gate, De Vane walked with the
children to the house.
Mary Sinclair darted forward, threw open the door, and




68                    DE VANE.
announced the approach of Mr. De Vane. Esther sprang
to her feet and came forward, " blushing like the morn,"
and saw De Vane leading little Susan, whose steps could
not keep up with Mary Sinclair's, and she felt that never
had she seen him when he appeared to such advantage-not
in the hour of his triumph before the assembled College,
nor when walking amidst his peers, the object of universal
admiration. A true man never does attract the higher'qualities of a woman of noble nature so powerfully as
when he descends from the sterner ways of life to use his
strength in succoring or guiding or protecting the weak;
and-the picture which Esther saw as De Vane approached,
tenderly helping the little child whom he held by the
hand to walk as briskly as she desired, was never effaced
from her heart. She smiled brightly, and running to meet
them, her long fair hair catching the sunbeams as they
fell, and encircling her like a glory, she exclaimed:
"Ah! iMr. De Vane, this is very good; you are achieving your highest triumph now, for you are guiding heedless little feet in the right path-the path that leads homeward."  Tears were in her eyes-those glorious eyes, full
of quenchless tenderness, and as De Vane saw her standing thus for a moment as she reached the spot where he
stood, he felt that in her surpassing beauty and goodness
she transcended even the visions which his imagination
sometimes painted.
He entered the house with Esther, and found the little
girls, the objects of her care, seated at their desks, neat
and light desks, each one having exclusive jurisdiction
over her own, and rivaling each other in the tidiness with
which they were kept. The whole aspect of the place was
cheerful. A small organ stood on one side of the room,
used at the morning and evening devotions, in which the
children took part, singing by note, for Esther made music
a part of her system. Engravings-landscapes and cattle




DE VANE.                    69
pieces-adorned the walls, and a light ttagere held a collection of entertaining books, selected by Esther with care.
l Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, " I begin to comprehend how you are able to lead this life. You have
succeeded in blending the graceful with the good and useful in such a way that, an angel, straying from his native
home, might pass the days here cheerfully."
Esther laughed heartily, and said: " Your tribute to my
little cottage, Mr. De Vane, is so beautiful that I must ask
you sometimes to visit it. Possibly, if you suffer from
ennui, you may find relief here in talking to these little
girls, and telling them of the world of knowledge they
have yet to explore."
" Much better would it be for me," he replied, half gayly,
half tenderly, " to sit at your feet and learn."
"You do me too much honor," said Esther, blushing.
"Would you wish to see what your sable friend Jacob
has been doing in my grounds within a few weeks? He is
an extravagant admirer of you, and while I do not mean
to detract in the least from your merits, I suspect that you
owe something of his good opinion to your nativity. He
thinks that every thing good and great must have some
connection with Virginia. My grandfather was fiom that
State, and therefore Jacob extends to me his good opinion,
supposing that I possess inherited virtues."
De Vane had never known Esther so gay. Excusing
herself for a moment, she went out of the room, and pres
ently returned with her hat and shawl, accompanied by
Mrs. Green, who had recovered from the morning's headache, and who greeted De Vane deferentially.
"Mrs. Green," said Esther, "I shall not return before
to-morrow morning. Good-by."
The little girls rose, and stood until Esther quitted the
room. Turning into a walk which De Vane had not yet
explored, she conducted him to a part of the garden




70                    DE VANE.
where the highest skill had been bestowed. Rare plants
stood in tropical glory, sheltered by shrubbery, which
protected without overshadowing them; the brilliant
pomegranate displayed its beauties, and the luxuriant
Cape jessamine shed its fragrance, safe from frosts; roses
grew in profusion; birds, lingering where the reign of
winter seemed unknown, made the air vocal.
"Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, "has your place yet
been named?"
"Oh! no," she replied; " it is too simple for such an ambitious distinction as a name.  Parks and country-seats
must aspire to such an honor."
"I will name it, if you will permit me. Shall I?"
Esther bowed.
" Let it be called'LEASOWES,' then-the name of Shenstone's seat."
"Thank you, Mr. De Vane, for your appreciation of my
little seat."
And from that day it always bore the name of LEASOWES.
"I should have called it Paradise," said De Vane, "but
for the temptation, and the sin, and the expulsion, which
are ever associated in my mind with the Eastern garden."
Esther looked at him earnestly. A shade of sadness
rested for a moment on his features, and he added:
" Is it not too sad that since that hour of primeval bliss
the world offers no retreat where the circling seasons may
be passed, unconscious of the doom that awaits us-the
inevitable grave?"
"But," said she, "there is a paradise where no shade
of sorrow can come, where every joy is immortal, and
where we need fear neither sin, nor temptation, nor expulsion."
She spoke with trembling earnestness, and they walked
side by side silently.




DE VAN.E.                    71
"But, Miss Wordsworth," at length said De Vane,
"what is to be done to make this world a happy seat?
It is so conventional, so imperious in its exactions, so
heartless in its estimate of the good and the beautiful, that
I sometimes wish for some happy valley, like that which
shut in the Abyssinian Prince. The shrine of the world
is a cruel one, more so than that of the Mexican Indians,
who tore the palpitating heart from the living breast, and
offered it to their god as a sacrifice: its throbs soon ceased
upon the broad rock where it was placed; but society
leaves the heart still to throb on, in the long course of
lapsing years, and yet tortures the victim by resisting
every true impulse and every natural emotion.  In its
dread imperiousness, it listens neither to the appeals of
youth nor the voice of nature. The Greeks would have
sacrificed Iphigenia, in her innocence and beauty, regardless of her tears and entreaties, had not the relenting goddess at whose shrine she stood, rescued and saved her;
but it was their love of glory that impelled them to the
deed. Society brings to its shrine victims that are to be
sacrificed to the advancement of pride and selfishness."
He spoke with bitterness, and Esther, turning a quick
glance upon his face, saw that it was very stern. She did
not comprehend him. She saw that he was in some extraordinary mood, that he was unhappy; but she could not
read the mysterious depth of the shadow which had darkened his young and bright spirit. She did not know that
Mrs. De Vane had thrown such temptations in his way,
that she had called upon his ardent nature to tear itself
away from the sweet and purifying influences which had
of late been attracting him. De Vane had been educated
to respect the opinions of the world, to value its conventionalisms, and to seek its high places —not at the sacrifice
of truth or self-respect; but the broad social distinctions
of life were made to appear very important; and his rela



72                    DE VANE.
tives would doubtless be as much shocked at his taking for
a wife a person not strictly of their own caste, as the royal
household are when a king contracts a morgcnatic marriage. He felt this; and once more in the presence of Esther, his spirits rose with indignation against a system
which would rank such a being below its scale, merely
because she adopted a religious creed more evangelical
than it recognized, and cast in her lot with a people too
fervent in their faith, and too exact in their lives, to please
the taste of the votaries of fashion, or the circle which
thought, because it was exclusive, it was refined.
Esther was silent, and De Vane continued:
" Is all this life to be sacrificed to the future? Is the
glory of this our earthly being to be ignored, that we
may attain that Paradise of which you speak, and where
we shall be happy and sinless?"
" Oh! no, Mr. De Vane," she replied. " The highest glory
of this life is in perfect harmony with that future glory
which awaits the faithful. But we must not follow false
lights; we must not suffer our own hearts to betray us;
we must learn what true glory is."
"Would you condemn fame, and wealth, and power,
Miss Wordsworth?"
"I would condemn nothing really noble; but I would
not make the attainment of fame, or wealth, or power,
the guiding-star of my course through life. May I remind
you of the words of the Great Exemplar of humanity,'Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these' things shall be added unto you'?"
There was a thrilling tenderness in the tones of her
voice, which reached the depths of De Vane's soul. He
was deeply affected, and he did not immediately reply.
When he did speak, he said:
" Miss Wordsworth, you will pardon me for saying that
I feel as Adam must have felt in the paradise which Mil



DE VANE.                     -73
ton describes, when the angel discoursed to him of the'
world that lay before him:-' The angel ended,
And in Adam's ear so charming left his voice.'"
Esther blushed deeply.
Mr. De Vane, when do you return to Virginia?" she
asked, after walking a few steps in silence.
"It may be never," he replied; "I am to enter Mr.
Clarendon's office, and I can not read my future."
Her embarrassment deepened; she trembled. At this
moment they reached the gate, and she said:
"Mr. De Vane, I am  about to return to Mr. Springfield's; I am expected there at this hour. Having made a
longer stay here than I anticipated, I must beg you to excuse me."
" Let me accompany you," said De Vane; "having
detained you, I must atone for it by seeing you safely
home."
Esther smiled, and they walked together to the residence
of Mr. Springfield.  De Vane took leave of her, and
sought his lodgings.
The patrician felt that there was a higher glory than
any that the world could give, and he felt too in that hour
that he would gladly renounce all the splendor of the realm
where society sat supreme, the Sphinx of the modern
world, its cold eyes looking to the future, and its dread
form the impersonation of heartlessness and power, to follow through the world's vain mask such a guide as had
just now turned from him her soul-lit face.




CHAPTER IX.
"SHE'S dangerous:
Her eyes have power beyond Thessalian charms,
To draw the moon from heaven. For eloquence,
The sea-green sirens'taught her voice their flattery;
And, while she speaks, night steals upon the day
Unmarked of those that hear."
DRYDENS Cleopatra.
DE VANE had entered the office of Mr. Clarendon, and
taken up his course of study.  Waring was about to visit
his friends in Georgia, but it was his intention to return,
and study for the ministry, availing himself of the use of
Mr. Springfield's extensive library, and enjoying that gentleman's instructions. Sincerely attached to De Vane, he
wished to be near him; and it was his hope that he might
contribute  somewhat toward bringing the noble nature
of his friend under the controlling power of evangelical
religion. He was well acquainted with his generous qualities, and he ardently desired to see his imperial intellect
submit itself to the teachings of Him who spake as never
man spake.  Somewhat bewildered with German speculations, and thoroughly aristocratic in his tastes, there was
much to hinder his coming to the feet of ONE who invited
the weary.and heavy-laden to seek him, because he was
meek and lowly.  Yet the love of truth within him was
strong, his scorn of the meaner ways of life was intense,
and he had the courage to avow his sentiments in regard to
any thing.  His nature was too grand to suffer him to sacrifice himself to false gods, if they could be stripped of the
illusion which invested them.
(74)




DE VANE.                    75
Tile two gentlemen were walking in the main street
near the State House, when a very handsome English
coach, drawn by a pair of splendid horses, dark bays, with
black manes and tails, two black servants in livery seated
on the box, came dashing by. In the carriage the two
ladies were seated, who had attracted De Vane's attention
on Commencement day; and as they passed the gentlemen, the younger of the two looked quickly out, as if she
desired to observe them. It was but for a moment, and
presently the carriage drew up, and the ladies, alighting
from it, entered the State House.
"Waring," said De Vane, "do you know those ladies?"
" I do not," he replied; "they must be strangers. The
person who leaned from the carriage is very beautiful. I
never saw a finer face."
"Brilliant," said the other; "and their equipage is perfect in its appointments. Those are English horses."
" Indeed! I share your taste for fine horses, De Vane,"
said Waring.
" And for fine women, too?"
"Cela depend," answered Waring.  "I am not easily
dazzled.  I should not choose a woman as I would a
horse-for a glossy coat, fine form, and fine action only."
"Yet, Waring, you would demand beauty?"
"I do not underrate it, but I should require the intellect and the soul to harmonize with the outward form."
"As in the case of Cleopatra-par exemple."
"Never," replied Waring, "never. A merely voluptuous, accomplished woman could never ensnare me."
"What! not such a woman as enslaved Julius Caesar,
and held Mark Antony captive in her gilded saloons, until
he lost a world?"
"No; for in the society of such a woman I might lose
what is worth more than the world," said Waring gravely.
They met Mr. Clarendon. "Ah! young gentlemen!" he




76                     DE VANE.
exclaimed gayly. "Tous allez ensemble, eh! I am fortunate in meeting you, for I was seeking you. The Duke
of Saxe-Weimar is here, and we are to entertain him tomorrow evening. The time for preparation is so short
that I must press you both into the service. Mrs. Clarendon has just taken up Miss Wordsworth, and they are now
driving to distribute verbal invitations, there being no
time to prepare cards. You must be good enough to do
the same thing for the gentlemen. Here is a list of chosen
names."
Waring and De Vane expressed their readiness to serve
him, and took their leave. Mr. Clarendon proceeded to
the State House.
"The Duke of Saxe-Weimar!" exclaimed De Vane. " I
am delighted."
"Yes," said Waring, "it will be a rare treat for youyou are half German. By the way, too, we shall meet
eminent political men there. Senator Caldwell is in town,
and he will of course be present."
"Indeed," replied De Vane. "I shall be gratified to
meet him. I am assured that he is brilliant in conversation."
"So I learn," said Waring.
They called a carriage, and drove to such places as their
instructions required.
Thursday evening came. It was propitious, cloudless,
and mild. The moon was too young to afford much light,
but the stars were out in countless hosts.
As Waring and De Vane approached the residence of
Mr. Clarendon, they observed that it was brilliantly lighted. In the extensive garden which surrounded the house,
lamps were hung from the trees, and the scene was one of
surpassing beauty. They entered, and were ushered into
the splendid rooms: the walls adorned with pictures, the
works oV masters, which had been collected by Mr. Clar



DE VANE.                    77
endon in Europe; old armor, busts, elegantly bound books,
musical instruments, and the nameless objects which give
such a charm to houses where taste and genius guide the
decorations.
Mrs. Clarendon, with Esther by her side, stood to receive
the guests, and as the two gentlemen entered, the latter
colored a little for an instant, but soon recovered her selfpossession, and welcomed them gracefully. Her dress was
in perfect harmony with her style of beauty; simple, rich,
and fitted to her shape, so as to show the form to advantage, without being in the extreme of fashion. She wore
no jewelry, except a diamond ring, of extraordinary brilliancy, but in her hair natural flowers were braided. The
rooms were rapidly filling, and De Vane, after exchanging
a few words with Esther, passed on to where Mr. Clarendon stood, surrounded by some half-dozen gentlemen. One
of these was a striking-looking person, short, stoutly built,
with a grand head. His features were large, the lips somewhat sensuous, the tout ensemble pleasing. He was a member of the House of Representatives from the largest city
in the State, and a man of mark. Both as a speaker aid
writer, he was distinguished for the richness and power of
his style. He had travelled with Mr. Clarendon in Europe,
and they admired each other. De Vane was presented to
him, and he expressed his gratification at meeting the
young gentleman, saying that he heard his speech in the
College chapel, and was'so much pleased that he had been
wishing for the opportunity to tender his congratulations.
"Your vindication, sir, of classical learning," said he,
" does you great credit."
De Vane thanked him warmly, saying that commendation from such a source was most gratifying to him.
At this moment the Duke of Saxe-Weimar entered, and
came directly to where Mr. Clarendon was standing. He
was gigantic in stature, broad-shouldered, with enormous




78                    DE VANE.
hands and feet, a beaming, intellectual face, and a certain
grace in his movements. He wore glasses, and looked
altogether like a man of culture.
He was presented to the gentlemen grouped about him,
and he entered into animated conversation with them, in
which the leading part was borne by the eminent man who
had just addressed himself to De Vane.
Waring came up, and touching De Vane's shoulder,
invited him to accompany him  to the front drawingroom. As they entered it, they.saw the two ladies who
had attracted their attention the day before in their carriage, standing in the centre of the room, in conversation
with Mrs. Clarendon. The younger lady was of such resplendent beauty, that she was dazzling. Her rich, dark
hair, turned back from the face, was gathered in heavy
braids, through which pearls were intertwisted; and her
large, lustrous eyes, shaded by the long lashes, were full
of sentiment-a sentiment too pure for passion, and not
sad enough for sorrow-fascinated those on whom they
rested. Her finely-moulded arms were as perfect as if
chiseled from marble, and her attitude was the impersonation of grace. Her costume was brilliant. The dress,
of purple velvet, trimmed with black Brussels lace, fell in
rich folds about her person, which was scarcely taller than
that of Esther, but more matured. She wore diamond
bracelets, set in enamel; a diamond necklace to match, and
a single ring, in which a diamond of large size flashed.
"De Vane," said Waring, "Mrs. Clarendon wished you
to be presented to the ladies with whom she is conversing."
" Mehercule! Waring," replied De Vane, " what a superb
woman!"
"She is very brilliant," replied the other.
De Vane advanced, and was presented by Mrs. Clarendon to the two ladies, Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin. Waring had already enjoyed that honor, and enter



DE VANE.                   7t
ed into conversation with Mrs. Habersham, a stately but
agreeable lady.
"You must have come to us but recently, Miss Godolphin," said De Vane, "or I should have met you, surely."
"I came only last week," she replied, " but I have not
been ignorant of you, Mr. De Vane. I met in Switzerland,
a few months since, the Guilfords, of Virginia, who spoke
of you, and told me that you were here at college, and I
had the pleasure of hearing your valedictory."
De Vane acknowledged the compliment with a low how.
"You are, then, quite lately from Europe," he said. "I
had learned that the family of which you speak had returned, through my aunt, Mrs. De Vane."
"They corresponded with her while abroad, and I felt,
upon coming home-for this is my home-that I almost
knew you personally."
De Vane felt gratified at her gracious interest in him.
So brilliant, so attractive, so commanding, that she should
honor him with her regards was indeed a distinction.
When on the threshold of manhood, attentions from a woman of our own age, or somewhat above it, if she be lovely arid accomplished, have a peculiar charm for us. They
please, while they flatter our amour propre.
"I am most fortunate," said De Vane, " in having been
favorably reported to you, before meeting you."
"Yes," she answered, " and you must allow me to say
that, having heard your speech, I feel myself indebted to
the friends who prepared me for such a performance. I
love the classics, Mr. De Vane, nor do I think there is any
thing in modern literature which can rival them."
" And which of the works which have come down to us
from the golden ages do you prefer?"
"Oh! Homer, of course."
"Indeed, do you find him more agreeable than Virgil?"
" A thousand times more so," she replied. "H Ie is heroic, and he does justice to woman."




80                    DE VANE.
" How?" said De Vane, smiling. " In making the charms
of Helen inflame the world with war, and bring destruction upon Troy?"
" Not at all," she answered. "Helen was not worthy
of such deeds, wrought in her behalf. It was to Menelaus a calamity that he succeeded in winning her. But
in Andromache and Penelope he vindicates our sex."
" And how does Virgil offend you?" inquired De Vane.
"By representing Dido as dying of grief, because forsaken by LEneas-a most unworthy passion; for he was
not a hero. Had he been, I might have pardoned her."
" Then, too, she had loved before," said Waring, who
had for some minutes been standing, with Esther on his
arm, in silence.
Miss Godolphin flushed to the temples, turning to the
speaker with a glance which seemed to seek to read his
soul. She did not reply.
" Do you think it possible," said De Vane, "that LEneas
really loved the Carthaginian queen?"
" No," said Mis.s Godolphin. "If he had loved, how
could he forsake her?"
There was the deepest sadness in her tone, and a shadow
came over her face.
" The love of glory," said De Vane, " impelled him to
spread his sails, and she could no longer detain him."
" How was it, then," she replied, " that Cleopatra held
Antony? What do you say, Miss Wordsworth?"
Esther started. " I think," she said,  that Antony was
true to neither Octavia nor Cleopatra. If he had loved
either, he would have been loyal, and his ambition would
have yielded to his better nature."
De Vane was astonished. Here stood a young girl,
scarcely seventeen, and yet she had solved a problem
which the world-was discussing, with so true a judgment
that all who heard her yielded to it.




DE VANE.                     81
"You are right," said Miss Godolphin. "Antony was
incapable of love. The ruling passion was the love of
glory, and no tender sentiment can live in its fierce blaze.
Hector was a hero, but he would never have deserted Andromache, save to defend her against the invading Greek!
See with what tenderness he takes leave of her and embraces his boy."
There was a wild, passionate sadness in her tones which
touched the hearts of the group about her. She might
herself have been some queen, standing in her superb
beauty, sad at desertion, and yet conquering it by pride.
What a contrast Esther presented! Her glorious beauty
was that of youth unsaddened by a shade of infelicity.
Her brilliant complexion, her auburn hair, her deep-blue
eyes, with heaven mirrored in their clear depths, her sylphlike form, and her perfectly-chiseled features, over which
no cloud of earthly sorrow had ever darkened, constituted
a combination of charms at once pure and glowing. As
they stood near each other, they seemed the impersonation
of Night and Morning, both gloriously beautiful: the one
adorned with the stars of evening for a diadem; the other
decked with dewy flowers, which the burning rays of the
sun had not yet kissed. The one brilliant, like Ariadne,
her crown flashing from her brows after the desertion of
Theseus; the other like Iphigenia i-l her innocence, pure
enough to minister in the temple of Diana.
"I quite agree with you," said Waring, " that the love
of glory must be subdued before we see any of the objects
of life in their true proportions. There is something in
our nature grander than ambition-the love of truth, for
the sake of truth. It is ignoble to live for human applause. It is glorious to seek, amidst the illusions of life,
the path which leads to a realm whose shadows are lost in
all-revealing light.
4*




82                    DE VANE.
Miss Godolphin looked at him earnestly. "And how,"
said she, "are we to find that path in the bewildering
mazes about us?"
"It is marked by foot-prints," replied Waring, "that
lead us unerringly."
At this moment Mr. Clarendon entered the room with
the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, and the gentleman who had
been in conversation with him. They all came to where
Miss Godolphin was standing, and the gentlemen were introduced to the party.
" You have just returned from Europe, I learn," said the
Duke. "Were you in Germany?"
" Yes," replied Miss Godolphin, "and in Weimar."
" Ah! and were you pleased?"
"I could not be otherwise," she answered. "It well
deserves its name, the ATHENS of Germany."
The Duke bowed low.
Miss Godolphin continued: "The tone of society is
charming. Nature and genius conspire to make the place
attractive. Such gardens I never saw. The theatre is
classical, and the scholars entertaining. What more can
one want on earth?"
The conversation now became general. The Duke asked
Esther if she admired the works of his countrymen, and
she replied:
"Such of them as are known to me possess a certain
charm, but I can not judge them critically."
"Mendelssohn, for instance?"
"Do you speak of the younger," said she.
"Oh! no —Moses, theauthor of Phaedon."
"I admire his fine spirit," said Esther, "but I must lament his blindness in refusing to acknowledge the Redeemer."
The Duke bowed.
"Then," said the gentleman who stood by his side,




DE VANE.                    83
whose fine head Esther had observed with admiration,
"you may like Wieland?"
" I admire him," she answered, "but fear that his ideal
of moral beauty was not that of the Christian believer."
"I am not by any means sure of that," said the. gentleman. "His father was a Lutheran divine, and his tutou
deeply imbued with the spirit of religion; and in his Dialogues of the Gods, it would seem that he intended in the
words of the Unknown to pay a tribute to Christianity as
the only system which can remodel men."
Waring was delighted.
" I must now thank you," said De Vane, " for your vindication of one of the most agreeable of all writers."
"I must confess my admiration for Lessing," said Miss
Godolphin. " His love of the beautiful was intense; he was
not misled by the French taste, but made his countrymen
acquainted with the creations of the ancients and the
moderns-of the Greeks and of Shakespeare."
Mr. Clarendon's face beamed. "Allow me, Mliss Godolphin," he said, " to thank you;" and with his hand upon
his breast, he made her a stately bow.
The conversation continued. The merits of Goethe, of
Schiller, of Herder, and of Jean Paul Richter were discussed.
" Upon my soul," exclaimed the Duke, "I can fancy myself at Weimar. Nowhere in this country have I found
any thing like this before."
De Vane had fascinated him by his enthusiasm, and the
acquaintance of the others with the literature of his country had been unexpected.
A party of gentlemen who had been dining together:
now entered, and among them Senator Caldwell, accompanied by Professor Locke and Professor Niles.  the
Senator's appearance was striking. Tall, almost slender,
erect; with features distinctly chiseled, and eyes that




84                      DE VANE.
blazed, he was the impersonation of intellectual power.
Soon after his entrance, the conversation turned upon
metaphysics, and the Senator engaged in it with ardor,
finding in Professor Locke an antagonist who drew out all
his power. His whole faculties were engaged, and his
profound analytical power displayed itself in the most
captivating way.
"What do you say to that, Le Grande?" he at length
said, addressing himself to the gentleman whose short
stature and intellectual appearance had already attracted
the attention of De Vane; and from that time he, together
with Mrs. Clarendon, took part in the discussion, which
was only interrupted by the notes of the piano: some hand
of surpassing skill was touching its keys, and the gentlemen all gathered about the performer.
Miss Godolphin was seated at the instrument, and was
playing a piece of German music which had just appeared.
Her execution was brilliant. After the piece was ended,
Professor Niles asked her to sing. A shade of sadness
touched her features, but after a moment's hesitation, she
sang Moore's beautiful lines:
" I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,
A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;
I came to that beach when the sun was declining —
The bark was still there, but the waters were gone 1"
She sang the entire lines, in tones of wild, passionate,
almost wailing sadness, until she uttered the words,
"Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of morning!"
when she threw an energy into them which was startling.
An irrepressible burst of applause followed. Her glove
had fallen, and as De Vane stooped to hand it to her, he
observed that tears were in her eyes. She rose, and turned
away.




DE VANE.                     85
Mrs. Niles was prevailed on to sing. She took her seat,
touched the keys with the skill of an artiste, and sang a
song which had just been set to music by a royal hand"Partant pour la Syrie."
The Duke was charmed. He had heard it in Europe, and
he exclaimed: " You know that the composer is in exile.
Sad that the enemies of the peace of -Europe should bring
misfortunes upon such a spirit!"
Mr. Clarendon turned to Esther, and taking her hand,
seated her at the instrument. She was pale, but she offered
no remonstrance. She felt how very trying the ordeal was
through Which she was about to pass, for her own knowledge of music disclosed the faultless performance of those
who had preceded her. She ran her fingers over the keys
lightly, and then played a selection from Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy's "Walpurgisnacht," and sang a translation of the words of Goethe. The effect was magical, the
power of the music rose into sublimity.  Miss Godolphin
seemed breathless with emotion, and the Duke was enthusiastic in his applause; his great hands, hid in white kid
gloves, made the room echo, while his Bravo! Bravo!
rang like a trumpet. De Vane could not utter a word,
but his excitement was so visible, that Mr. Clarendon
smiled as he saw his earnest face and compressed lips. Esther's form had seemed to be swept by the power of the
music~; her face wore a glory that was caught from the inspiration of the moment, and when the keys wer6 silent,
her faultless hands were clasped unconsciously before her.
Never had De Vane witnessed such enthusiasm in her before; she was like a sibyl absorbed by the revelation of
her own faculties. Waring spoke to her, and asked her to
add a single song more.
"What shall it be?" said Esther.
"Any thing which you may select," he replied.




86                      DE VANE.
She sang those lines in which the genius of Moore seemed
under the influence of heavenly inspiration" 0 Thou who driest the mourner's tear!"
Her voice almost trembled with sensibility, and as the
dying cadence was lost in the air, the sympathy of the
company was so deep and their taste so appreciative, that
not a word was uttered.
She rose from the instrument, and Miss Godolphin, advancing, took her hand in both her own, and said:
"Miss Wordsworth, I thank you for interpreting music
to me in a way which makes me feel its glory."
"Such a tribute from you, Miss Godolphin," said Mr.
Clarendon, "my young friend may well prize."
"I prize it very highly, Mr. Clarendon," said Esther.
Some one proposed that they should visit the lighted garden. De Vane gave his arm to Esther, and they walked
out, followed by Waring and Miss Godolphin and others
of the party.  The scene was one of rare beauty.  The
walks led through evergreens lighted with lamps of various colors.
"Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, "you must have
thought me misanthropic when we last met, but you cannot comprehend, of course, my social philosophy; you
have seen nothing of the heartlessness of society."
"No, Mr. De Vane," she replied, " I have found nothing
but kindness.  I see that there is unhappiness in the great
world about me, but I seem to walk in a charmed circle."
" Yes, you remind me of what Coleridge says:'0 lady! we receive but what we give,
And in our life alone does nature live.
Ah! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
Enveloping the earth.'




DE VANE.                      87
All within you is so bright that you see the world about
you under the light which your own spirit sheds over it."
"You judge me quite too favorably, Mr. De Vane,"
said Esther.
"My observation has taught me," he said, "that the
world surrenders the beautiful and the good for the ad
vancement of its own system. It worships false gods, and
the sacrifices which it brings to their altars are the most
costly of all that are laid upon any shrine-living hearts.
It reproduces in modern times the cruel worship of that
people denounced in the Scriptures, who made their sons
and their daughters pass through the fire in the wildness
of their cruel idolatry."
"I do not know that I understand you, Mr. De Vane,"
said Esther, surprised at his earnestness.
"I trust," he replied bitterly, "that you never may."
"Perhaps," she said, "you are taking your estimate of
society from Coleridge. But you would not abandon it,
as he proposed at one time to do, nor reconstruct it upon
his ideal system-would you?"
"I'm not-sure that I would not," said De Vane. "I
value the conventionalisms of the world less every day
that I live."
"Better contend with what is bad in the world, and
strive to make it happier," said Esther.  " I do not think
that we should withdraw from the world, because it is
distasteful to us."
"But," said De Vane, "it offends me. I love its better
aspects, but I scorn its meaner ones; and so perverse
am I, that I am repelled on the other side by goodness
itself, if it has not the graces which certainly do belong
to good society. I sympathize intensely with the Greeks
in their love of the beautiful, the rTO taXov. I could not
worship the good, if stripped of its loveliness."




88                    DE VANE.
"Undine," replied Esther, " might have felt thus before
she received a soul, but surely not afterward."
"De Vane," called out Waring, "do you intend that
Mliss Wordsworth shall lose her supper?"
"Ah!" said De Vane, "it seems that we must not for-.
get our bodies. We were just speaking about the soul,
Waring."
"Indeed! " he replied. "I am glad to learn that your
thoughts are so well directed."
"We, too, were-looking heavenward," said Miss Godolphin; "for I was just saying that these lamps could not
obscure those stars that burn so far above us, though they
seem so brilliant."
"They looked upward, and the quenchless stars could
be seen in the pure heavens, burning calmly far above;
lights which would still endure, when the glaring lamps
were all extinguished, and the scene about them lost
its illusions. They entered the house, and a gay conversation followed at the supper-table.
When the guests were dispersing, De Vane sought
Esther, adjusted her wrappings, and conducted her to the
carriage, where Mr. and Mrs. Springfield were already
seated. Before reaching it, he said:
"We did not conclude our conversation, Miss Wordsworth. I am in a labyrinth, and you must extricate me."
She smiled, but made no reply. The carriage dashed
away; and De Vane really felt as if he had lost a GUIDE.




CHAPTER X.
"TiE highest honors that the world can boast
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
The brightest beams of glory are at most
But dying sparkles of Thy living fire."
FRANCIS QUARLES.
ON Saturday, at noon, a small traveling-carriage; drawn
by a pair of well-matched dark bay horses, drove up to
Mr. Springfield's residence.  Two  gentlemen  alighted
from it, one of them a venerable man, of most impressive
appearance, the other much younger. Mrs. Springfield came
to the door to meet them, and her face flushed with
pleasure.
" Bishop McKendree! " she exclaimed, " I am delighted
to see you. We were looking for you;" and she conducted
the gentlemen into the house.
Bishop McKendree and his traveling companion, a young
minister of the Tennessee Conference, were welcomed with
a warmth that gratified them, and made them feel that they
had reached a home. Some such homes there were throughout the wide extent of country embraced within the Bishop's
diocese, where it was felt to be an honor to receive such a
guest; but it was with very great satisfaction that he entered this house.  Its well-known hospitality, its refinement, its abounding comforts, and the ties of personal
friendship-all endeared it to him. Esther came in soon
after the Bishop's arrival, and she was warmly greeted by
(89)




90                     DE VANE.
him. He had known her father. Laying his hand solemnly
upon her head, bright with its rich golden hair, he said:
" May the Lord bless thee, with the blessings of heaven
above and of earth beneath!"
As she raised her head, Mrs. Springfield saw that tears
trembled upon her eyelids; and Esther felt that she bore
away with her, as she left the room, a treasure of priceless
value in the blessing of an apostolic man, whose hands had
been laid upon the head of her father, consecrating him to
the self-sacrificing ministry in which he had laid down his
life. Mr. Springfield, who had been out on horseback, arrived, and hastened to renew the welcome which had already been extended to the venerable guest. In those days
the visit of a Bishop of the Methodist Episcopal Church
was an event as marked and as highly appreciated as a
royal visit to some nobleman, when his palatial residence
is graced by the presence of his sovereign. In the evening
several of the leading Methodists of the town came in, and
some hours were passed in delightful conversation. Waring
was present, and gave great interest to the conversation,
his fine mind being fully roused, and his spirits exhilarated
by the presence of a man so much venerated by him. The
social qualities of the Bishop were such as to make him an
agreeable companion for both young and old. There was
dignity, but nothing of coldness in his manner; and his
benevolence was so shining, that children and servants felt
they could approach him.  The hour of nine came-the
Bishop's hour for retiring; the Bible and the hymn-book
were placed on a table by his side, and he proceeded to
conduct the evening service.  After reading one of the
Psalms, he rose and gave out the lines of a hymn, which all
joined in singing; and then, all kneeling, he offered a simple,
earnest prayer. Upon resuming their seats, every one felt
calmed-spiritualized-as if an angel, in passing had shaken
his wings, and left a heavenly atmosphere, which filled the




DE VANE.                     91
place. The Bishop rose, and taking leave of the company,
was conducted to his chamber. Most of the persons present left at the same time; but Waring remained, and continued for some time in conversation with the family.
Mrs. Springfield expressed her gratification at having the
Bishop with them; saying that they were entertaining " an
angel," but not " unawares."
"Yes," replied Waring,  no purer man, nor kindlier one,
breathes the breath of life. He blends the courage of Peter
with the gentleness of John. What stay is he to make
with you, Mrs. Springfield?"
" He will not leave us before Thursday. He is about to
preside, as you know, over the Conference, which is to meet
in Augusta."
"Yes, and he can reach there easily by Saturday in the
forenoon, taking an early departure on Thursday. I must
bring De Vane to see him. He is a Virginian, you know;
so is the Bishop; and he has heard favorably of him,
through an aunt of his in that State."
Mrs. Springfield said: "We shall be happy to see Mr. De
Vane. I think highly of him. Do you know his religious
sentiments, Mr. Waring?"
"He has no well-defined religious opinions," replied Waring. "He was brought up in the Protestant Episcopal
Church, and yields a general assent to its creed, I believe;
but for two or three years he has been looking into German
literature, and I fear lives somewhat in cloud-land."
"Yes," said Mr. Springfield, "I remember your saying
something of that kind to us when we first made his acquaintance. We must bring him into the clear light."
"I should rejoice to see him reach it," said Waring. " His
nature is a noble one, and if converted, he would not hesitate to profess his faith anywhere, though the whole country rang with the cry:'Is Saul also among the prophets?'"




92                     DE VANE.
"I hope the cry may soon be heard," said Mr. Springfield.
"It's a little strange," said Waring, "that De Vane has
never heard more than one sermon by a Methodist minister
in all his life. He heard you, you remember, and he was
delighted; but he insists that such a discourse in a Methodist Chapel is to be heard only on rare occasions."
They all smiled, and Mr. Springfield remarked that he
was very much obliged to him for his appreciation.
" You will bring him to hear the Bishop to-morrow morning, Mr. Waring, will you not?" said Esther.
"Oh! yes, he will feel an interest in him from what his
aunt has written. She describes him as a most eloquent
preacher."
" How is it," asked Mrs. Springfield, " that he is so exclusive? Ils nature seems to be a generous one."
"Why," replied Waving, " his family is one of the most
aristocratic in Virginia. He is a PATRICIAN, so by descent,
by alliance, by education, by taste-in short, by -every thing.
The great wealth of General De Vane puts it in his power
to give his son-and George is an only son-every advantage. He would not permit him even to attend a commonschool, but employed masters for him at home; and he
would not have consented that he should enter any other
college in the Southern country than this. The great wonder is, that he is not spoiled; but he is not in the least so.
He loves rank, glory, fame, but he loves truth better than
either; and while he feels the value of caste, he will never
sacrifice himself for any ignoble object. Many would call
his ideal of the good and the true romantic, but his sterling sense is not under any illusion; and he would sacrifice
every thing before he would abandon what he felt that he
ought to adhere to and vindicate."
" You speak of your friend with enthusiasm, Mr. Waring," said Mrs. Springfield.




DE VANE.                     93
"He rouses my nature," replied Waring. "He is my
friend. I am strongly attached to him; he rises so far
above the ordinary standard of young men whom I meet,
that I honor him as much as I love him."
"We shall expect you to bring him to see us, Mr. Waring," said Mrs. Springfield. "I am sure that he will be
charmed with the Bishop, who has himself the appearance
of a patrician."
Esther had listened to the conversation with interest, but
she remained silent.
Waring rose and took his leave.
Sunday came, and overspread the world with its tranquil
beauty. The arrival of Bishop McKendree being widely
known, the Methodist church was filled to overflowing at
an early hour. The citizens generally, of all denominations
and of every class, pressed into the humble meeting-house.
The aristocratic, the great, and the humble, were all eager
to hear a man so eminent for his virtues, his heroic services
in the cause of Christ, and his eloquence as a preacher.
Waring was in his accustomed seat, De Vane by his side;
and as the former glanced over the congregation, he was
pleased to see Mr. Clarendon, Mr. Hallam, and other eminent men; and among the ladies, Mrs. Clarendon, with Mrs.
Habersham  and Miss Godolphin. The Governor of the
State entered with his family, and seats were found for them
quite near the pulpit.
Precisely at half-past ten o'clock, Bishop McKendree entered the church, attended by Mr. Springfield and Mr. Kennedy, the pastor, and walked up the aisle to the pulpit.
The appearance of the Bishop was very impressive. Nearly
six feet in height, and well-formed, he was the impersonation of manly vigor and activity, yielding somewhat to the
advance of age. His face exhibited intellectual power, blended with benevolence and firmness. His hair fell away from
the forehead in heavy locks, and rested on his collar. Ite




94                       DE VANE.
wore a long-waisted, single-breasted black cloth coat, with
a standing collar, black vest, and breeches of the same material terminating at the knee, where they were fastened
with silver buckles, long black stockings, and polished
shoes, with silver buckles-the style of dress which one sees
in the portrait of Washington by Stuart. After kneeling
for a few moments in silent prayer, the Bishop rose, and
opened the services by reading from the Scriptures of the
Old and the New Testaments. He then read the hymn deliberately and impressively, and afterward recited the lines,
two by two, while the congregation, rising to their feet,
sang them with a good spirit, the Bishop pausing occasionally
to invite attention to the sentiments-which they were uttering in song. The prayer which followed was comprehensive, earnest, spiritual, and deeply reverential, as if the glories of the eternal world were in view. No taste, however
critical, could be offended; no heart, however worldly,
could be untouched; and many felt that angels' wings rustled in their midst, as the fine, pleading voice of the Bishop
ascended to the celestial courts. After the prayer, another
hymn was sung —the volume of sound swelling beyond the
tones of an organ, and rising heavenward.
The text was from the First Epistle to the Corinthians,
chapter thirteenth and verse thirteenth: "And now abideth
faith, hope, and charity, these three; but the greatest of
these is charity."
The sermon was one of extraordinary interest and power,
blending grandeur and tenderness; and tears fell from many
eyes unused to weep. The graphic power of the Bishop
was great, and his illustrations brought the living scenes to
view. In describing faith as a principle, he insisted that one
of the tests was obedience-simple, thorough obedience; and
he showed how Saul, the stately king of Israel, erred, in departing from the instructions given him as to the destruction
of the Amalekites. "Thus saith the Lord of hosts: I rernem



DE VANE.                    95
ber that which Amalek did to Israel-how he laid wait for
him in the way, when he came up from Egypt. Now go
and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have,
and spare them not, but slay both man and woman, infant
and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass."  The battle
was fought; Saul was victorious. The next morning, Samuel, the prophet, goes to visit the conquering king, encamped at Carmel, who comes forth to meet him, saying:
" Blessed be thou of the Lord: I have performed the commandment of the Lord.  The prophet replied: What
meaneth, then, this bleating of sheep iin mine ears, and the
lowing of the oxen which I hear? And Saul said: They
have brought them from the Amalekites; for the people
spared the best of the sheep and of the oxen, to sacrifice
unto.the Lord thy God; and the rest we have utterly destroyed.  Then Samuel said unto Saul, Stay, and I will
tell thee what the Lord hath said to me this night. And he
said unto him, Say on. And Samuel said, When thou wast
little in thine own sight, wast thou not made the head of
the tribes of Israel, and the Lord anointed thee king over
Israel?  And the Lord sent thee on a journey, and said,
Go and utterly destroy the sinners the Amalekites, and fight
against them until they be consumed. Wherefore, then,
didst thou not obey the voice of the Lord, but didst fly upon
the spoil, and didst evil in the sight of the Lord? And
Saul said unto Samuel, Yea, I have obeyed the voice of the
Lord, and have gone the way which the Lord sent me, and
have brought Agag, the king of Amalek, and have utterly
destroyed the Amalekites. But the people took of the spoils,
sheep and oxen, the chief things of which should have been
utterly destroyed, to sacrifice unto the Lord thy God, in
Gilgal. And Samuel said, Hath the Lord as great delight
in burnt-offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of
the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to
hearken, than the fat of tams. For rebellion is as the sin of
witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry,




96                      DE VANE.
Because thou hast rejected the word of the Lord, he hath
also rejected thee from being king."
All this was recited in a manner so life-like, that a panoramic view of the scene could not have brought it more distinctly before the audience; and he proceeded to describe
the confession of the king, his being overawed by the
people and yielding to them, which was the result of want
of faith in God; the eagerness of Saul still to reign; his
grasping the mantle of Samuel to detain him; its rending
in his hand; and the prophet's prediction of the king's over.
throw. Every one felt impressed with the dread majesty
of God-awed in his presence-and trembled before the
unswerving rectitude of his administration.
Then, when the Bishop had shown what faith is, he described hope-its exulting, far-reaching view of the world
which lies beyond the boundaries of time; its revealing
splendors, filling the soul with joy unutterable and full of
glory; its power to hold the soul steadily amidst the storms
of life. Then came his beautiful description of charity,
greater than faith or hope-a mighty principle, dwelling on
earth and in heaven; the same love warming the heart of an
archangel and filling the soul of the Christian. The power to
work miracles; the gift of tongues; the most boundless
munificence in ministering to the wants of others-all, all
paled before the surpassing glory of love, which would give
us the victory overall things, and enable even an expiring
martyr to exclaim:
" Sink down, ye separating hills!
Let sin and death remove!'Tis love that drives ny chariot-wheels,
And death must yield to love."
The effect of the discourse was visible throughout the
congregation, and Waring looking about him at its close,
saw tears coursing down the cheeks of Mr. Hallam. Miss
Godolphin's face was buried in her handkerchief, and Mr.
Clarendon's countenance exhibited deep emotion.




DE VANE.                     97
Another hymn was sung,
"0 glorious hope of perfect love!"
and the volume of song which swelled loud and strong,
could scarcely drown the sobs and exclamations which
would break forth from some hearts.' De Vane was impressed. He felt the immeasurable superiority which the
glorious views spread before him  possessed over all the
pageantry of human life in its most imposing aspects. The
sublime outlines of the Redeemer's kingdom, embracing the
universe, were seen by him, and the pomp and splendor of
the world paled before its transcendent excellence. Ambition,
power, empire-all appeared, in that moment, trifling and
insignificant; and the largest interests of time shrank into
nothingness before the eternity which stretched illimitably
around him. Then, too, the earnestness of this religion
touched his heart; no mere routine of duties, no cold outline
of forms, but a living, fervent, spiritual worship was all
around him. Even his tastes were not offended; for the
very presence of the Bishop-a man of culture and refinement, as well as of earnestness and power-impressed the
whole service, and guided and elevated it. After another
prayer, the Bishop pronounced the benediction, and all felt
the calm and spiritual influence of his apostolic face, his
outspread hands, and his words, beneficent as heaven itself.
Long lingered the influence of the morning's service in
the hearts of the great congregation; and the unpretending
chapel seemed, to the view of many, like the glorious temple
which crowned Mount Moriah, the singers lifting up the
voice in praise and thanksgiving, with the trumpets and
cymbals and instruments of music, saying: " For He is good;
for his mercy endureth forever."  Then the house was filled
with a cloud, so that the priests could not stand to minister,
by reason of the cloud, for the glory of the Lord had filled
the house of God.
5




CHAPTER XI.
"As pilot well expert in perilous wave,
That to a steadfast star his course hath bent,
When foggy mists or cloudy tempests have
The faithful light of that fair lamp yblent,
And covered heaven with hideous detriment;
Upon his card and compass firmes his eye,
The maystery of his long experiment,
And to them does the steddy helm apply,
Bidding his winged vessell fairly forward fly."
SPENSER'S Faerie Queene.
MONDAY evening came, and Waring, accompanied by De
Vane, walked to the house of Mr. Springfield at an early
hour.  They were warmly welcomed by Mr. Springfield,
who conducted them to the library, where they found several persons, who had called to pay their respects to the
Bishop.  Others called in the course of the evening, and
among them Mr. Clarendon and Mr. Hallam.
Mr. Hallam's father had been a Methodist minister, had
known Bishop McKendree, and had died, leaving a spotless
memory.
Mr. Clarendon had learned to venerate the Bishop from
the teachings of an aunt, who had long been a member of
the Methodist Church in Virginia.  The conversation became general, and the Bishop was so genial that he charmed:
every one.  His manners stately and yet gentle; his fine
sense, his thorough knowledge of public affairs; and his
broad views of questions which came up for discussion, made
him a most agreeable companion; and De Vane felt that he
would grace even the most aristocratic circles of the land.
(98)




DE VANE.                     99
Without ostentation, he succeeded in bringing every thing
in subordination to Christianity, treated every topic in its
relations to it, and impressed every one with the idea that
the true solution of all questions must be found in the philosophy of God's government of the world. All statesmanship, he argued, must be guided by the divine law, if it
would advance the true glory and prosperity of the country.
"But, Bishop," said Mr. Clarendon, "you would not
bring about an alliance between the Church and the State?"
"No," replied the Bishop. "But I would recognize
Christianity distinctly. I would conduct the affairs of the
government in direct reference to the teachings of Jesus
Christ. There need be no political arrangement such as
exists in England; but the principles of Christianity should
be acknowledged as the only basis of the government."
" Would not that involve the necessity of providing for
some particular mode of worship?" asked Mr. Clarendon.
" Not at all," said the Bishop. "It would be unwise to
erect an establishment, but the institutions of Christianity
should be recognized by the organic law of the state. We
ought not to content ourselves with a general reference to
the government of God in our state papers; but Christianity-the system of truth revealed in the New Testamentshould be accepted and honored, if we would perpetuate
our fiee institutions."
"I think, Bishop, that is already done to some extent,"
said Mr. Hallam. "We observe the Christian Sabbath, and
protect it by law."
"Quite true," replied the Bishop. " But I fear that the
tendency is to conduct the government of this country upon
principles of human wisdom; and I believe that no political
system can stand that does not clearly and broadly recognize the law of God as the all-impelling power which guides
the fortunes of our race."




100                   DE VANE.
"Certainly," said Mr. Hallam, "there is much in history
to confirm your view."
"Yes," said Mr. Glarendon, "both in ancient and modern
history; and I must say that I admire the British government, however much I condemn its ambitious and aggressive
policy. The stability of that government is wonderful. Its
people are free, and yet the empire stands amidst the convulsions of the world with the repose of majestic strength.
What do you say to it, Mr. Waring?  Am I conceding too
much?"
" I think not," replied Waring. "The very subject which
we are now discussing has attracted my attention much of
late, and the philosophy of history seems to me to be unmistakable. Nations have perished because they knew not
God."
"The British government," said Mr. Hallam, " has been
much misunderstood in this country. Having been at war
with it, we have accustomed ourselves to denounce it; but
it is really, if we except our own, the finest government on
earth."
" I think, Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Clarendon, " you will
agree heartily with that opinion; for it seemed to me that
you favored, in your oration, which we all heard with so
much pleasure, the distinctions in society which are so broadly marked in England."
De Vane colored slightly, but instantly recovered his selfpossession, and said: "It was my object, Mr. Clarendon,
to show that the education of English gentlemen surpassed
that of any other class in any country, and I attributed that
to the advantages which they enjoyed under the aristocratic
system of that country. I must say, too, that I admire the
British government."
"I think," said the Bishop, " that I observe that tendency
in the Virginia gentlemen, and I believe, Mr. De Vane, that
you are a native of that State."




DE VANE.                     101
"I am, sir," said De Vane, " and I am happy to know that
some of my relatives heard you, upon your late visit to Virginia."
"Which of them?" asked the Bishop.
"Mrs. De Vane, an aunt of mine," said De Vane.
"I remember," said the Bishop, "to have met her at the
house of my friend, iMr. Hamilton; and if you will allow
me to say so, I was much pleased with the interest which
she manifested in evangelical religion. She impressed me
with her earnestness as a Christian."
De Vane was highly gratified. Without analyzing it, he
felt as if something had occurred to lessen the distance which
separated his family from Esther. He said:
"M rs. De Vane wrote me in such terms as satisfied me
that she fully sympathized with your sentiments."
The Bishop bowed. "Well," said he, "you think well
of the British government. I trust that if we do not rival
their aristocratic establishment, we shall not suffer them to
outstrip us in reverence for the institutions of Christianity.
Do you not think it remarkable that the free states of antiquity could not perpetuate their liberty?"
" It is, sir," replied De Vane, "an impressive lesson which
we learn from ancient history."
"And yet," said Waring, "unstable as political institutions have proved themselves, how striking is the fact that
Christianity, springing up at the very feet of the colossal
power of the Roman Empire, has come down to our times
without the protection of governments, and is to-day statelier and stronger than it ever was before!"
" Yes," said the Bishop, " and that might teach us that a
system so self-sustaining will infuse its own conservative
influence into any government with which it is incorporated."
" Your philosophy, Bishop," said Mr. Clarendon, "is sustained by modern history, too. Look at England and France,




102                     DE VANE.
with only that narrow strip of sea dividing them which lies
between Dover and Calais."
"Something must be attributed to the difference of races,"
said Mr. Hallam. " The French people have their religion
too, and the reigning family seems to be quite devout."
Still," said Waring, "it seems too much to claim, for a
difference between races, to attribute to that the well-ordered political system of England, as contrasted with the instability of government in France. I think that Protestant
Christianity has much to do with it."
"You are quite right, I think, Mr. Waring," said Mr.
Clarendon.  "The popular mind of England, emancipated
by the Reformation, is fitted for the reception of free principles. The wide diffusion of Christianity among the masses
is so conservative, that liberty of thought and speech may
be allowed. The same latitude permitted in France, would
inaugurate anarchy, and make it impossible to uphold any
government."
"Then," said the Bishop, "it becomes very important
to spread the Gospel as widely as possible through these
lands."
" Indeed, it is so," said Waring; " and, therefore, I should
oppose any thing like a.Church establishment in this country.
Let the people be free to choose their own form of worship;
and let the Gospel be preached to them with as little restraint as possible."
" Free seats, too, Waring?" asked Mr. Clarendon playfully.'Oh! by all means," said Waring; "free seats and free
grace."
All smiled, and the Bishop seemed pleased.
"Does not that strike you, De Vane, as somewhat too
democratic? " asked Mr. Clarendon.
" I am not very well qualified to judge," De Vane replied,
smiling.  "I am too little accustomed to that form of wor



DE VANE.                     103
ship to decide upon its merits. But I must say, that I am
disposed to favor free seats, if the system  works as well
everywhere as it does in this place; for I did not witness
the slightest confusion in the very large congregations assembled in the Methodist church, on both occasions when I
was present."
"Ah!" said the Bishop, "I am sorry to say that we
sometimes are troubled. I have witnessed a good deal of
disorder; but, after all, I do prefer free seats, that the Gospel may be preached to the poor."
" Can you not provide for that, Bishop, by leaving some
free pews?" said Mr. Clarendon.
"No," said he. "The poor are sensitive; they do not
like to be set apart as a class, to be looked at, especially
when they assemble in the Lord's house."' The rich and the poor meet together," said Mrs. Springfield, taking part in the conversation, "and the LORD is the
Maker of them all."
"Madam," said Mr. Clarendon, " I think that settles the
question. I shall hereafter favor free seats."
"Yes," said De Vane, "however broad we may think
proper to make the social distinctions of life, there ought
to be one place in the universe where these distinctions
vanish, and that is, where all meet before God, conscious of
the wants and the aspirations of a common humanity."
He spoke with ardor. The Bishop fixed his eyes on him
earnestly and kindly, and every one seemed impressed with
the elevation and beauty of the sentiment uttered by one
so young, reared so proudly, and making no profession of
the Christian faith.
A sunbeam passed over Esther's face.
"What stay do you propose to make in this place, Mr.
De Vane? " asked the Bishop.
"It is not at all certain, sir," he replied. "I am at this
time.in the office of Mr. Clarendon, and it is my wish to
pursue my studies there for some time to come."




104                   DE VANE.
"Your father is in Virginia, I believe?"
"Yes. He remains much at home, and I shall visit him
in the course of the next summer; but it is by no means
settled that I shall ever return to Virginia to fix my residence there."
"No," said Mr. Clarendon, "we do not intend to permit
Virginia to reclaim Mr. De Vane. We shall keep him among
us, Bishop. We can continue to love our mother, even
when we go forth into the wide world."
"Yes," said the Bishop, "that I know to be true. A
Virginian myself, I cherish a sincere love for my native
State; but I do not expect even to visit her again. My
pilgrimage is nearly ended, and I shall probably lay down
my staff in Tennessee, where I have passed much of my
time of late years. No matter where, if, in my last moments, I shall be able to say: ALL'S WELL!"
The gentlemen here rose to take their leave of the Bishop,
and as he took the hand of De Vane, he said to him:
"Farewell, sir. You are young. The great world is
before you. Let me urge you to take the Word of God for
your guide; it will be a lamp unto your feet, and a Iight
unto your path."
De Vane bowed low, and all who saw the picture long
remembered it: the venerable form of the Bishop; his gray
locks resting upon his collar; his face full of apostolic
earnestness, and the tall stately form of the young patrician
bending before him; his dark massive hair; his noble face;
his features beaming with emotion, as he heard the parting
counsel of the man of God. All who stood grouped around
this picture, felt that they had never witnessed a more impressive scene-age and youth confronting each other-a
pilgrim who was approaching the silent river which separates TIME from ETERNITY, and.a young man just entering
upon his course, full of strength, and ardor, and hope.
Waring and De Vane retraced their steps toward their




DE VANE.                     105
lodgings.  As they walked under the star-lit heavens,
neither spoke for some minutes. At length De Vane said:
"Waring, we have sometimes talked of impressive objects in nature; but for moral sublimity, I have never seen
any thing to rival the spectacle which that venerable man
presents."
"I agree with you," replied his friend; "one quits his
presence feeling that he has been enjoying a privilege almost
equal to that of him who witnessed the departure of the
prophet. It is true we do not see the fiery chariot, but we
can not doubt that the man of God, upon whose face we
have just now looked, will soon enter the courts of celestial
glory. His whole life has had but a single object-the
glory of God. He has looked to that as the mariner of
early times did to the polar star; and one can well imagine
that angels even now attend his steps."
"O Waring!" said De Vane, "I wish that I had a
fixed religious faith like yours!! I am far out at sea; and
while I admire and venerate such a man as Bishop McKendree, my senitiments are rather a tribute to the grand career
and heroic character of the man, than to the faith which he
professes. I should admire a statesman, a philosopher, or
a great military leader just in the same way. The death of
Socrates, of which Plato gives us an account in his PHBMDON,
filled me with admiration. The calm dignity, the tenderness
to his fiiends, the gentleness toward his enemies, the steady
resistance to the entreaties of those about him, that he would
delay a little longer to drink the poison, after the cup had'
been brought to him, his taking it while the sun yet lingered upon the mountains, all this impresses me unspeakably."
"It is a fine picture," replied Waring, "and Plato has
sketched it exquisitely; but really the spectacle of this venerable man, so heroic, so full of deep sympathy with life, so
self-sacrificing in his whole career, standing: as he does,
5*




106                    DE VANE.
near the invisible boundary of the future world, so calmly
surveying that future, so cheerfully walking upon the'silent solemn shore,
Of that vast ocean he must sail so soon,'
transcends, in my view, the scene which is brought before us
by the eloquent philosopher of the Academy in describing the
closing hours of the illustrious Athenian moralist. Socrates
exclaimed:'I go to die, you to live: but which is best, the
Divinity alone can know.' But this disciple of Christ feels
that, while it is his duty still to live and toil for his Master,
to die will be gain. The clouds of doubt hung about the
horizon of the one, the splendors of supernal glory light the
way of the other; and while both fill us with admiration,
excited by the heroism exhibited by each, our highest homage is due to the system of truth which enables the disciple of Christ to see the immortal light which overspreads
the scenery of the future world."
"Waring," said De Vane, "I have never yet found a
solution for the tremendous questions which addressed
themselves to me while I was yet young: the PAST-the
FUTURE. How thick the clouds which cover both! See
those stars in countless numbers above us. When were
they formed and marshaled in their mighty hosts? Was
there ever an hour when the universe was a solitude? And
if the Being who created these shining orbs, which you and
I know to be worlds, fills the throne of the universe, in the
midst of such an empire, how can it be that he will fix his
regards upon us? These dread questions filled my thoughts
when, yet a boy, I wandered at night in the unbroken solitude of the forest which surrounds my home, looking at
the stars as they seemed to climb the mountain side; and
often have I watched their course deep into the night.
Like Manfred:




DE VANE.                          107' My joy was in the wilderness, to breathe
The difficult air of the iced mountains' tops,
Where the birds dare not build, nor insect's wing
Flits o'er the herbless granite; or to plunge
Into the torrent, and to roll along
On the swift whirl of the new-breaking wave
Of river-stream.'. 
Or-'To follow through the night the moving moon,
The stars, and their development; or catch
The dazzling lightnings, till my eyes grew dim;
Or to look listening on the scattered leaves,
While autumn winds were at their evening song.
and then I dived,
In my lone wanderings, to the caves of death,
Searching its cause in its effect.'
Since I came here, I have sought in books to find some revealing light; but so far, I have searched in vain."
" De Vane," said his friend, "I have long feared this.
You are following false lights, blind guides, wandering stars.
I have observed your course of reading. Neither German
philosophers, nor English essayists, nor French ontologists
can do any thing for you. I sympathize with the scornyes, the scorn-with which an Apostle-himself a scholar-of
the highest order, and of imperial intellect-treated  such
speculative teachers in his day-a day when Roman literature was striving to rival the glory of the intellectual triumphs of Greece.' Where is the wise? where is the scribe?
where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made
foolish the wisdom of this world'  We can make no discoveries in the region of morals.  Every thing which comes
to us from the invisible world is a pure disclosure, and God
alone can break the silence that reigns over the space which
separates time. from eternity. If we would learn, we must
open the volume of his revelation."
"It does not solve the mysteries which fill the chambers




108                    DE VANE.
of my soul," said De Vane. "It is too arbitrary. I am
urged to believe, as if believing were an act of volition, and
I am instructed that my state for eternity depends upon my
acceptance of a creed which I can not comprehend. I recall
the past-Egypt, the Eastern nations, the states of Greece,
the Roman Empire; all the wonders of science which marked their career; all the splendid achievements which light
their chronicles; all the literature and the arts which adorned their annals: and I ask myself, can it be possible that
the Ruler of the universe —overlooked these peoples, and
concentrated his regards on a race escaping from bondage
on the banks of the Nile, and making their home afterward
in that narrow region which skirts the Mediterranean Sea,
where, even according to their own records, they rebelled
constantly against the very God whom they professed to
worship! Then, too, the appeal made to me to accept as
DIVINE a young Galileean, dwelling nearly his whole life in
the provincial region of a mere dependency upon the Roman
Empire, and put to death at last by his own countrymen!
So that the mysteries of nature baffle me, and the teachings
of the very Revelation to which you refer me bewilder me.
Dread arcana meet me at every glance; these outspread
heavens, this mother earth: fathomless depths open before
me in my own nature;, and the system of Christianity, so
full, as I see it to be, of what is good and beautiful, stands
before me like a cunningly-devised fable, intended to soothe
the agonizing doubts of a being longing to explore the future, and to read the mysteries of another state. Who can
solve the two great questions of life-the Whence? and the
Whither?"
"Ah I De Vane," said Waring, " you are indeed at seaa sea tossed with tempests; and being shaken by tumultuous waves, you are losing sight of the friendly lights
which mark the shore, and of the guiding-stars of heaven.
You are in great danger of shipwreck. Acquainted, as you




DE VANE.                    109
are, with the philosophy of the Greeks, you ought to know
that you can find no guide there. Splendid speculations
dazzle you, and you must sympathize with the earnest, hopeful minds which sought to explore the universe without the
guiding lights of revelation. God's system for the recovery
of a revolted world is a gradual one, for it is a moral one;
but it has been steadily expanding, until, at length, it has
attained the noon-day splendor which overspreads the Christian states of the nineteenth century. Not to enter upon the
wide sea where you are drifting just now, let me ask you, is
it not wonderful that one man-MOEs-should, in the midst
of the debasing idolatry of Egypt, its polytheism, with all its
boasted learning, comprehend the existence of the one true
and living God? Is it not also wonderful that a people-the
Israelites-dwelling upon the shores of the Mediterranean
Sea, which washed the shores of Greece, of Italy, and of
Carthage, should alone possess a knowledge of the one God?
and that one of their kings should have written such sacred
poems in praise of him that, coming down through centuries to our own times, a believer can read them in the very
blaze of our modern civilization, and feel them to be the
noblest tributes to the Divine Majesty ever offered? Where
did they make their discoveries? And is it not wonderful,
too, that a young Galileean, as you style him, should come
forth from a provincial home, and utter such words as
eclipsed the learning of all the world before his time, and
construct a code which stands to-day confessedly the purest,
the sublimest system of morals which the world ever knew?
From whence did he derive his learning?  Where did he
find a teacher, so far in advance of those who walked on the
banks of the Ilyssus, or instructed their disciples in the groves
of Academus? And does this not satisfy you that he was
divine? Leaving out of view now his miracles wrought in
attestation of the divinity of his mission, does not the very
fact of his ti lnscendent and peerless utterances, emerging,




110                    DE VANE.
as he did, from a small, uncultivated, immoral villageNazareth-satisfy you that his illumination was from the
uncreated splendors of the ETERNAL HIMSELF?"
De Vane looked with wonder upon the glowing face of
his friend, as he stood under the brilliant sky. They had
stopped in their walk, both absorbed by the great questions
which they were discussing. His own features were lit with
intellectual power, and he could not withhold his admiration
from Waring, now roused to an enthusiasm which he had
never witnessed in him before.
" We must talk further of all this, Waring," he remarked.
"I am indeed tossed upon the waves. There are views,
still more bewildering, of a later philosophy, which I must
compare with yours."
"Philosophy falsely so called," said Waring.
"When do you leave for Georgia?"
" On Thursday morning, with the Bishop. Good-night'!"
" Good-night!" said De Vane. -




CHAPTER XII.
"IF to spurn at noble praise
Be the passport to thy heaven,
Follow thou those gloomy waysNo such law to me was given."
MARK AKENSIDE.
WARING was absent for several weeks.  After his departure, De Vane entered upon his studies with increased
ardor.  He rarely went into society; and after passing
the day at Mr. Clarendon's office, Closely engaged in reading, he would turn at night to other studies; and often his
light was seen burning, by those who passed his lodgings,
long after midnight.  His taste for German literature was
decided; and he found in the book-store of Mr. Muller the
finest collection of works in that language which this country afforded.  The Reviews, too, interested him; besides
the British Quarterlies, he had ordered two from Paris, and
was supplied with periodicals from  Berlin.  Just at that
time, quite an impulse was given to the German view
of Roman History, by Niebuhr's great work, _Romische
Geschichte, which had been translated by one of the librarians of the British Museum, and he found his ambition
fired by turning the pages that recorded the deeds of those
"sons of ancient fame,
Those starry lights of virtue that diffuse
Through the dark depth of time their vivid flame."
His enthusiasm was roused, and all that was heroic in his
nature acquired new vigor.  There was every thing to en(111)




112                    DE VANE.
courage him; and as he traced the principles that gave
such expansion to the power of Rome, and sent its victorious eagles at the head of conquering legions to so many
distant provinces, he felt that his own country afforded a
broad field for the display of the qualities which had made
the men who had constructed that imperial republic immortal.
He communed, too, with scholars-the dead and the living-and learned to disregard society. He corresponded
with Mr. Le Grande, and his tastes were directed by the cultivated mind of that fine scholar. He was eager to illustrate the statesmanship of his country, to make its annals
glorious; not by military exploits only, but by the higher
triumphs of the arts of peace. Patrician as he was by
birth, fortune, and association, yet he believed firmly in a
popular government; and it was his wish to see the institutions of the country developed upon the principles so
clearly set forth in the Constitution. Impressed with the
wisdom of the British Government, he aspired to still higher statesmanship than the nature of that government permitted to be exhibited. It was his wish-to guide the complex political system of this country to still nobler triumphs.
Aristocratic in his tastes, yet he desired the widest expansion for popular sentiment, and he felt that it was a far
higher position to stand before the world called to the great
places of trust by the people, than to accept ~ portfolio from
a monarch. Then, too, this great continent, so widely separated from the empires of the old world, afforded, in his
view, a field for the cultivation of the highest powers of
statesmanship. Free States, united by a common government, would rival each other in the glorious task of advancing human liberty; and he looked forward to the day
when a great people, enjoying the freest political institutions under the heavens-inheriting the laws, the language,
and the religion of England-would spread the highest civil



DE VANE.                       113
ization th'e world ever saw, between the two great oceans,
the Atlantic and the Pacific; realizing the glowing tribute
to our country which had just then been paid to it by a
noble poet who laid down his life in Greece, a martyr to
his heroic love of that classic land:'" Still one great clime,
Whose vigorous offspring by dividing ocean
Are kept. apart, and nursed in the devotion
Of freedom, which their fathers fought for and
Bequeathed-a heritage of heart and hand,
And proud distinction from each other landStill ONE GREAT CLIME, in full and free defiance,
Yet rears her crest, unconquered and sublime,
Above the far Atlantic."
Mr. Clarendon observed him with great interest, and encouraged him in his generous studies, and a strong friendship grew up between them.  De Vane sometimes called in
at Mr. Clarendon's and passed the evening; rarely, however, for his books engrossed him; and he met occasionally,
at Mr. Clarendon's dinners, the leading men of the State.
Chancellor De Lolme, too, a man of culture, and whose elegant hospitality was well known, distinguished as his house
was for refinement, induced him sometimes to accept his invitations, and honored him by marks of attention, which he
always bestowed gracefully. The fine manners of De Vane,
his splendid talents, his acquirements, his dignity and purity, made him already a man of rank; and a high career was
predicted for him by the eminent men in whose society he
appeared.
Calling one evening at Mr. Clarendon's, he met Mrs.
Habersham and Miss Godolphin, who, preferring, that hour
to visit Mrs. Clarendon, were in the library.  De Vane
would have retired, but Mr. Clarendon would take no excuse.
"Come, De Vane," said he, rising, "this is just what you




114                    DE VANE.
ought to do every evening. These ladies you know, and I
intend to try to bring them to my aid, in inducing you to
quit your books in the evening, and give some of your hours
to your friends."
De Vane advanced and took his seat with the ladies, saying: " Really, Mr. Clarendon, you know how happy I am
to meet friends, as you do me the honor to style'them, when
I can do so."
" When you can do so, indeed!" said Mr. Clarendon. " I
assure you, ladies, he is killing himself. Not content with
the light which day gives him, he robs the night, and may
be fairly classed among the sleepless."
The ladies smiled, and Mr. Clarendon said: "It is too
true, Mr. De Vane, you will seriously injure your health.
Dr. Dahlgreen was saying only yesterday, that you must be
looked after. He was driving past your lodgings on his return from a visit to a patient in the sand-hills as late as two
o'clock in the morning, and he says he saw your two spermcandles burning in the window. Shocking! and there can
be no mistake about it. Your two lights betrayed you;
for you must know, ladies, that this gentleman, classical as
he is, disdains the lamp, and insists that two candles make
the only light fit for a student."
"We must bribe your good landlady, Mrs. Bowen," said
Mrs. Clarendon, "to deprive you of that luxury."
" That would be very hard to do," said Mr. Clarendon,
" for I called there last week to see De Vane. He had
walked out; and upon my saying to Mrs. Bowen that she
must not permit her young boarder to sit up so late, she
said that it was a great pity,. but that she had never known
him do any thing but what was right-that he was absolutely perfect, and that she had not the heart to interfere
with any of his wishes. So I very meekly bowed my way
out, glad to escape some mark of displeasure for my impertinence."




DE VANE.                     115
The ladies laughed heartily, and De Vane said: "Mrs.
Bowen is really very kind to me, and I fear that I give her
more trouble than I ought."
" She has not prevailed on you to attend church yet?"
asked Mr. Clarendon.
"No," said De Vane, "and that really seems to grieve
her."
Turning to Miss Godolphin, he said:
"Speaking of attending church, Miss Godolphin, reminds
me that I saw you at the Mlethodist church, when Bishop
AMcKendree preached there. Did you like him?"
" I never heard a sermon that affected me so much," she
replied. "If he were residing here, I should attend his
church constantly.  His very appearance impresses me
strangely."
" It is very striking," said De Vane; "and his conversation has for me a perfect charm."
"I never met him in society," she said; " I should be delighted to do so. My aunt and myself were both so much
captivated by him, that if he had remained longer we should
have called on him."
"Yes," said Mrs. Habersham, "I said to Miss Wordsworth that she should have sent for us; and that if we had
known of his being in town so long, we should not have
waited for an invitation to call."
"Have you met Miss Wordsworth very lately, Mrs.
Habersham?" asked Mrs. Clarendon.
" Not within the past fortnight," she replied.
" Nor have we. She must be out of town, for we have
the pleasure of seeing her here every week when at home."
c" Do you know her well, Mrs. Clarendon?" asked Miss
Godolphin.
"Oh! yes," she replied; " no one better. And she is such
a favorite of Mr. Clarendon, that I do not know how he has
suffered two weeks to pass without seeing her."




116                     DE VANE.
" Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "it's hard to say which of us
loves her most."
"And you permit him to say that, Mrs. Clarendon!" said
Miss Godolphin, smiling.
"Oh! yes," she answered, " he loves Miss Wordsworth,
extravagantly, I should say, if I did not know her so well."
"She is angelic," said Mr. Clarendon.
"She is very beautiful," said Miss Godolphin.  "I never.
was more captivated by the appearance of any one. I met
her first in this very house, and I at once felt that neither
in the living circles of Europe, nor in the picture-galleries
which adorn its palaces, had I seen so lovely a person.
Then, too, her accomplishments seem to equal her beauty."
" Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "she is very accomplished;
her music is nothing short of wonderful. Of that you need
not be informed, however. I heard your tribute to her, and
I saw how she prized it. She is perfectly enthusiastic about
you, and thinks she never heard any thing to equal your performance. She says that your singing is unrivaled."
"Ah!" said Miss Godolphin, "the dear, generous creature! She ought to know that she herself is peerless in
song. Did you, Mr. De Vane, ever hear any thing to rival
her' Walpurgisnacht'?"
" It was glorious," he replied.
"Is she a German scholar?" asked Miss Godolphin.
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, " a thorough one. The Duke
of Saxe-Weimar conversed with her for a half-hour in that
language, and he told me that her pronunciation was remarkable for its accuracy and purity."
"It is wonderful," said Miss Godolphin, "how she could
have acquired it! She has never been abroad, I suppose?"
"Never," said Mr. Clarendon; " but she has had the best
masters. No expense has been spared in her education.
Her own fortune is large, and her uncle, Mr. Springfield, is
wealthy and without children; so that every thing has been




DE VANE.                    117
done, that could be accomplished, to educate her in the
highest sense."
"I learn," said Mrs. Habersham, "that her tastes are
peculiar. It is said that she has founded a retreat for young
orphan girls, and that she actually passes much of her time
in teaching them."
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "it is so. A finer instance
of true womanly benevolence I have never witnessed. I
have visited the'Retreat'-by the way, it is called'Leasowes' now, after Shenstone's seat-and a more beautiful
and attractive place I do not know on earth. Miss Wordsworth does not reside there; but she has employed a respectable person, admirably fitted for the place, to take
charge of it; and she lives in Mr. Springfield's family. De
Vane, did you ever see the place, in your rambles about the
town?"
" Yes," replied De Vane, coloring; "my friend Waring
was good enough to take me there."
" Well," said Mr. Clarendon, " you young gentlemen were
entering a very dangerous place, if Miss Wordsworth happened to be present. I should say that Calypso's famous
retreat was nothing to it. You must have found Waring
very useful, in the way of a Mentor, to help you break
away."
" She was there," said De Vane, smiling; " but we did
not expect to find her at home. It was Saturday. It was
an extraordinary scene. Her extreme youth, the little girls
grouped about her, and the surpassing beauty of the placeall made a rare picture."
"The effect very much heightened," said Mr. Clarendon,
"by two young gentlemen looking on."
"Really, Mr. Clarendon," said Miss Godolphin, "you
must take me there."
" That I will," said he, heartily. "By the way, De Vane,
when do you look for Waring?"




118                    DE VANE.
"Next week," he replied. "I had a letter from him this
morning. He has been making a visit to his sister."
"He is a noble fellow," said Mr. Clarendon; "a true
man. With great parts, he has a heart as generous as ever
beat in a man's bosom; and his religion absolutely rises into
grandeur.";"I am delighted, Mr. Clarendon," said De Vane, "to
hear you speak of him in such terms. I wish all the world
knew him as you and I do."
"The world will know him," said Mr. Clarendon. " He
is destined to be a burning and a shining light."
"We met him here," said Miss Godolphin. "I very well
remember him. He was the first-honor man."
"Yes," said De Vane, "and richly deserved to be."
"It seems to me," said Mrs. Habersham, "that I heard
some one say he was quite devoted to Miss Wordsworth.
Is it so, Mr. Clarendon? "
" He admires her beyond measure," said Mr. Clarendon;
" but I do not know that there is any thing beyond that."
"I am  quite sure," said Mrs. Clarendon, "that Miss
Wordsworth is free. She is, you know, very young, just
seventeen, and she has never loved."
Miss Godolphin fixed her large dark eyes on Mrs. Clarendon's face, and seemed to be about to speak, but she
checked herself, and said nothing. De Vane observed her
emotion; he could not comprehend it.
"Are you very sure?" said Mrs. Habersham.  "Very
young persons sometimes feel the fatal passion."
"I am very sure," said Mrs. Clarendon. "Esther Wordsworth has never loved. When she does love, if that should
ever happen, it will be for always."
"Is she ardent?" asked Mrs. Habersham.
"Her nature is one of great depth," said Mrs. Clarendon;
" and she adheres with tenacity to any purpose which she
forms."




DE VANE.                    119
"Miss Godolphin, are you ill?" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon.
She was deadly pale, and seemed about to fall from her
chair, but she rallied instantly, and the rich warm blood,
returning from her heart, rushed to her temples.
"No," she replied, in a voice whose mournful depth
startled De Vane.
A servant entered the room with refreshments; and Mr.
Clarendon, filling a glass with wine, handed it to Miss Godolphin, and said:
" Let us, Miss Hortensia, take some Madeira together; it
is a generous wine, and will strengthen you."  He bowed
to her, and as she replaced the glass, she said:
"I must see more of your friend Miss Wordsworth, Mr.
Clarendon. I must know her."
"She will, I am sure, be happy to make you her friend,
Miss Hortensia," he said.
"As to Waring, the fellow has been so busy with books,
that I don't think he has ever thought about loving any one.
He has known Miss Wordsworth for some years, certainly
ever since he entered college; for he has, been intimate with
Mr. Springfield from the time of his first coming to pursue
his studies here. You must permit me to show him the way
to your house, Mrs. Habersham."
"We shall be most happy to see him," she replied.
"And what do you say, Miss Hortensia? Will you be
merciful to my young friend?"
" Oh! yes," she said, smiling, half sadly; " he will have
nothing to fear from me."
"Nothing to fear from you!" said Mr. Clarendon; "Pray,
why not? A more dangerous person it wbuld be hard to
find."
"Ah! Mr. Clarendon," she said, "I am very, very far
from being dangerous. I have no faith in the grand passion.
Your sex are swayed by ambition; and as for oursi I shall




120                   DE VANE.
not undertake to interpret their souls. Did you see the
Sphinx when you were traveling?"
"No," said he, "but I saw woman in marble, everywhere, and in every form I read the soul, beneath the cold
outlines.  Depend upon it, Miss Godolphin, a woman's
heart never dies; and as to a young and beautiful woman,
talking of impassibilite, it is quite as rational as to suppose
the harp is voiceless, which only waits for some hand to
sweep its chords, that is skilled in music."
Miss Godolphin's eyes were fathomless in their dark
depths. She said:
" May not the strings of the harp be broken?"
"They are often hung upon the willows, from sadness,"
he replied; "' but when love informs the soul, then they are
swiftly snatched from the melancholy boughs, and made to
discourse most eloquent music."
" Love, Mr. Clarendon! it is a myth."
" You are all the more dangerous," he said, " for teaching
that doctrine. You beguile your victims. Unconscious of
danger, they are helplessly ensnared before they see the
fetters."
"You know nothing about it," she replied, "and shall
not persuade me to accept your philosophy."
She spoke playfully; but, De Vane, who observed her,
felt that some indefinable sadness reigned within her. He
could not comprehend it. Young, splendidly beautiful, accomplished, full of intellect and soul, she was as sad as
Jephthah's daughter upon the mountains of Israel.
"At all events," said Mr. Clarendon, "I shall leave
Waring to take care of himself. I shall observe the process
with interest. It will be a study full of instruction, even for
a married man."
All laughed heartily, except Miss Godolphin, who smiled,
but said nothing.
"You know, Miss Hortensia," said Mrs. Clarendon, "that




DE VANE.                    121
before you left us for your travels in Europe, Mr. Clarendon
admired you, and you are still a great favourite. He will
not spare his friends."
Mr. Clarendon assumed an air of great surprise, and said:
"How have I offended? Does it occur to you, Mr. De
Vane, that I have said any thing out of the way, in pronouncing young ladies-captivating?"
I am afraid," said De Vane," to hazard an opinion upon
so grave a question, without bestowing some reflection
upon it."
" Ah! non-committal. Well, that has become so much
the fashion in politics, that the young gentlemen are all
falling into it."
The ladies rose to take their leave, and the gentlemen
handed them to the carriage. The spirited horses dashed
off. De Vane bowed, and walked away to his lodgings.
He could not withdraw his thoughts from Miss Godolphin
her glorious beauty, her sadness, her emotion when allusion
was made to an all-engrossing passion, and a life-long attachment-all this interested him in her. He had met her but
rarely, and this evening she had impressed him deeply. The
interest which he felt in her was indefinable. She was very
unlike Esther. Both were lovely-both accomplished; the
one was as pure as an angel which had never passed the
bounds of Paradise, the other might be an angel just returning from some ministering office, which had touched her
celestial spirit with sadness.
6




CHAPTER XIII.
" HE has been dreaming of old heroic stories,
And the poet's world has entered in his soul;
He has grown conscious of life's ancestral glories,
When sages and when kings first upheld the mind's control.
When will he awaken?
Asks the midnight's stately queen."
Awakening of Endymion.
UNHEEDING the remonstrances of friends, De Vane still
pursued his studies.'Still his light burned in his room until
long past midnight; and passers-by remarked it. History,
politics, metaphysics, engrossed him. The pictured pages of
Livy fired his ambition; and he reviewed with delight the
early history of that wonderful people whose empire, beginning upon the Tiber, grew  until it overspread the world.
The politics of the world, too, interested him, and he sought,
in history, to discern the great principles which  might
enable him better to comprehend the merits of the great
struggle going on throughout the country.  What constituted the real wealth of a nation, or contributed to its true
glory, he searched for; and, rising above the small considerations which swayed so many about him, he investigated the
philosophy of statesmanship.  Metaphysics he delighted in.
He had gone over the whole field of the modern school in
his senior year, but he now explored the wider range of
speculative philosophy, and was deep in the Serbonian bog
of fathomless disputation.  The brilliant papers of Heine
fascinated him; the sombre, cheerless philosophy of Leibnitz involved him  in the toils of fatalism; and the subtle
(122)




DE VANE.                    123
disquisitions of Bolingbroke captivated him. The cold unbelief of the first of these writers troubled him; for, with
an ardent nature, he desired to believe and trust. He could
not look out upon the universe and pronounce it unmeaning;
nor could he tolerate the thought that humanity was in a
state of orphanage. He looked upon the world in its glorious beauty of hill and dale, and mountain and valley, and
ocean and plain, smiling with summer verdure, or grand
with the splendors of winter; or to the heavens in their immensity, through which the countless orbs rushed with so
much velocity, and yet so much order; and he could not
consent to yield up his early belief that upon the throne of
the universe there was seated a God of boundless benevolence. Still he was troubled. He comprehended the deep
yearning of the spirit for the right way. lie felt, with Plato,
"that every soul is unwillingly deprived of truth."  Deprived of truth he would not be, if he could succeed in exploring the wilderness about him, and find the way lighted
by the Divinity. His consciousness assured him of the existence of his soul. Was that soul immortal?  The dread
question which troubled Job haunted him: "Is there not
an appointed time to man upon earth? Are not his days
also like the days of an hireling?"
And then came the response of the patriarch to his own
question: " If a man die, shall he live again?"  Here was
the great cry of the soul which had been heard on the plains
of the east so long ago, uttered once more.
"Mr. De Vane," said Mrs. Bowen, "you are not looking
well. I think you study too. hard."  De Vane was at the
breakfast-table. He had been up very late the night before,
and his long course of study began to tell upon his health.
Young, vigorous, and active as he was, he was becoming
thin, and his face had lost its color. His large dark eyes
seemed to increase in depth and splendor, and his appetite
was gone.




124                    DE VANE.
Mrs. Bowen had forborne as long as her kind nature
would permit her to forbear. She loved the young student
as if he had been her son; and her eyes filled with tears as
she saw him this morning, seated at the table, languid and
thoughtful.
De Vane smiled, and said: "Why, Mrs. Bowen, would
you have me indulge myself-yod who are so active and
so busy?"
" No, Mr. De Vane," she replied, " there is no danger of
that. You will never indulge yourself; but you must spare
yourself. Young people ought not to break themselves
down. When they get older and stronger, then they can
bear more."
" But I am not working very hard. There is so much to
learn, that I am trying to do something while I am young."
" Yes, sir; but you see Solomon says that much study is
a weariness to the flesh; and he knew all about it. There,
you have eaten scarcely any thing at all-one egg, but one
biscuit, and half a cup of coffee. Why, that would not do
for a child."
De Vane smiled and said: " Never mind, Mrs. Bowen. I
will make up for it yet. I must take a little more exercise,
and then I shall eat like a mountaineer, as I am."
"It was only last week," said Mrs. Bowen, "that Mr.
Clarendon scolded me for letting you sit up so late, and
yesterday I was at Mr. Springfield's, and Mrs. Springfield
asked about you, and said she was afraid you were not well,
and that she understood from Dr. Dahlgreen that you were
killing yourself with books."
"Indeed!" said De Vane. "Was Mrs. Springfield kind
enough to ask after me?"
"Certainly she did," said Mrs. Bowen. "And she said
that Miss Wordsworth was going on in the same way; for,
after passing nearly the whole day at her little school, she
would sit up half the night, studying."




DE VANE.                     125
De Vane felt the blood rising to his face. He had not
seen Esther since Waring left the town, and this sudden
mention of her name in connection with his own by Mrs.
Bowen, in her kindness of heart, bringing the strictures of
Mrs. Springfield to her support, recalled her so vividly, that
he was conscious of a very indefinable sensation."
"I hope Miss Wordsworth's health has not suffered," he
said, looking earnestly at Mrs. Bowen.
"She says not; for she was sitting by when Mrs. Springfield spoke to me, and she was looking as beautiful as I ever
saw her. She is as good, too, as she is pretty."
" Why, Mrs. Bowen, you are actually becoming poetical
in your descriptions. One of the very finest tributes ever
paid to a lady has that very thought in it:'Yes; she is good as she is fair.'"
"Well,,Miss Wordsworth deserves it," said Mrs. Bowen.
"If I did not know that no human being can be perfect,
I should say she is. If she has a fault, it has never been
discovered. Yet her whole life is spent in doing good.
Taking care of little orphan girls, most people would think
was enough; but she visits the sick, and helps the poor
besides. For about two weeks she has been nursing Mrs,
Gildersleeve's daughter, who is dying of consumption."
"But could no one be found to take her place?"
"No; no one can take her place, Mr. De Vane. Little
Eva Gildersleeve was one of her Sunday-school scholars, and
now about twelve years old; but she is dying, and she clings
to Miss Wordsworth as if she was the only person in all
the world that could do her any good. And to hear her
talk to that child about Jesus, and about heaven, as I did,
day before yesterday, is better than a sermon. I thought I
could almost hear the rustling of angels' wings in the
room."




126                    DE VANE.
Mrs. Bowen's eyes filled with tears, and De Vane was
impressed with the fine expression of her matronly face, as
she uttered the beautiful tribute to Miss Wordsworth, unconscious of the exquisite picture she had painted-a picture worthy of the pencil of Raphael-this young, bright,
accomplished woman, ministering to a dying girl, in a way
so comforting and tender, as to make the spectator feel that
angels must press forward to witness the scene.
This, then, accounted for her absence from  society; this
explained why Mrs. Clarendon had not seen her for the
two weeks past. He said nothing. He rose from the table,
and walked out into the streets; but through every hour of
that day, and for many days afterward, did he recall the
scene which Mrs. Bowen had described.
The next dayWaring returned. He came in the evening
coach; and, very soon after his arrival, he walked to Mrs.
Bowen's, and inquired for De Vane.
Mrs. Bowen welcomed him warmly.  Waring was a
great favorite, and she really venerated him, young as he
was.
" Well, Mr. Waring," she said, "I'm  glad you've come.
We've all missed you; and as for Mr. De Vane, since you
left, he has hardly gone out at all. He does nothing but
study from morning till night; till night indeed-I might
say till the next morning."
"Ah!" said Waring, "I must look after him; is he in?"
"No," she replied; "this is the only time in the day
when he takes a walk. But he'll be in very soon; it's nearly
supper-time, and he never keeps me waiting. Come in, and
stay to supper."
"Thank you," said Waring, "I will do so," frankly accepting the hearty invitation. "And I must beg you too,"
said he, "to consent to take me as a boarder. You can
spare me a room, and I shall try to help you take care of
De Vane."




DE VANE.                   127
Mrs. Bowen's face brightened.
"You know," she replied, "I have hardly ever taken any
one to board. Sometimes two or three little girls, who
come here to go to school, and whose parents will make me
take them; but when Mr. De Vane came and told me how
he hated to stay at a hotel, and how he wished to be quiet,
I took him. Opposite to his room  there is one just as
large, and if that will suit you, you know that there is no
one in the world I would rather have than yourself. And
as to Mr. De Vane, he will be delighted, I know. He told
me when he came to keep it, and said he would pay for it
just as if some one was in it; but he preferred to have it
vacant, until some friend of his came to take it. He did
not say who it was. I told him he ought not to do that, but
he said I must let him have the room, and that it would do
him a great favor."
" Very well," said Waring; " that's all right. I'll settle
that matter with De Vane. I'll take the room for my
own, and I am very much obliged to you, Mrs. Bower, for
your kindness in consenting to be troubled with me."
"Troubled indeed!" said she. "If people in this world
gave no more trouble than you and Mr. De Vane do, I
would think the millennium had conie."
Waring laughed, and the good old lady busied herself in
preparation for tea.
Soon after, De Vane's step was heard in the hall; and,
opening the door, he walked into the room.
"'Mehercule! Waring," said he; "where did you drop
from, old fellow? I'm delighted to see you."
"Not from the clouds," said Waring, "like another classical friend of yours, or I should, like him, have broken my
leg. As it is, I am only very much bruised by beating about
in a stage-coach from Augusta."
"You have been gone an age," said De Vane, "and deserve to be bruised for staying so long."




128                   DE VANE.
"But, see here, De Vane," said Waring, " what is the
matter with you? You are thin and pale. What have
you been doing with yourself?"
"Nothing," said De Vane. "I suppose I have not walked
as much as I was accustomed to do, when we took our
strolls together. Now that you are here, I shall do better."
"Yes," said Waring, " I intend to see to that. My good
friend, Mrs. Bowefi, here, says that I may have that room
opposite yours, which, I take it for granted, you intended I
should have from the beginning."
"Why, in all candor, Waring, I am heartily glad that
you take it, but I acted upon the plan of Englishmen upon
the Continent. I'm told that to make sure of their comfort,
when they find a pleasant hotel, they engage all the rooms
on the same floor, so as to exclude all comers, except some
people who may happen to be agreeable to them. The room
is yours, of course. When will you take possession?"
" To-morrow; if Mrs. Bowen will suffer me to do so?"
" Oh! yes, sir," said Mrs. Bowen; " it can be put in order to-morrow morning. It is already pretty well furnished,
and any thing else that you want I will get for you."
"I think, Waring," laid De Vane, "I shall transfer, if
you will permit, sundry articles from my own room. I have
been indulging my taste in selecting articles from time to
time, until I can hardly turn around in my room; and, with
other things, I selected, the other day, a melodeon, which
has not yet been sent home. You must take charge of that,
and I shall charge you for the use of it by making you instruct me, as you did during our summer vacation."
"You see, Mrs. Bowen," said Waring, " that he intends
to make me a music-teacher forthwith."
"You must take away some of his books," said Mrs.
Bowen. " Mr. Clarendon told me to do it, but I was afraid
to trouble him."




DE VANE.                   129
"I'll attend to his case," said Waring. They sat down
to supper, and two little girls, from ten to twelve years of
age, took their seats with them. It was a round, cheerfil
table, loaded with luxuries, for Mrs. Bowen was a famous
housekeeper.
Waring asked a blessing.
It had been many months since Mrs. Bowen was so happy; and in her heart she sent up a thanksgiving to the Lord,
for spreading sunshine through her house. She had a competency, and was childless. A woman of good sense and
good breeding, she was highly respected, and saw the
best society in the town. She was a fervent Christian,
too, abounding in good works; and the young and the old
loved her for her gentleness and kindness. She was especially a favorite with Mr. Clarendon, who often declared,
that when he felt at all depressed, he would walk to Mrs.
Bowen's to get her to cheer him.
Her house was always cheerful. If there was a single ray
of sunshine breaking through the clouds, it somehow fell
on her. She loved Esther as she loved no one else on
earth; and often accompanied her on her visits to the sick
and the poor.
It was at the special request of Mr. Clarendon that she
took De Vane as a boarder; and the young student had
already become strongly attached to her. His ample fortune enabled him to gratify his tastes, and with great delicacy he often supplied luxuries which he persuaded her no
one could find so well as himself.
More than once, he had enabled her to relieve cases of
suffer'ig by supplying means just at the moment when
they were needed. Now that Waring had come, she felt
that her happiness was complete, for she loved him next
to Esther.
" How is my friend Mr. Springfield, Mrs. Bowen?" asked
Waring.
6*




130                   DE VANE.
" Very well, sir. He was speaking of you a few days
since, and said that you staid longer than he supposed
you would; but that he hoped to see you soon."
" I'm very much obliged to him. I found that my affairs
in Georgia required my attention. The Conference was in
session a week." 
" So I heard, from Mr. Arthur."
" Ah! yes. How do you like that appointment?"
" Oh! we are all pleased," said Mrs. Bowen. " You know
that he is a great favorite here, and his congregations are
very large. The old church will hardly hold them."
"I supposed it would be so-he is really a very fine
preacher. He has a way of reaching the heart, that gives
him access to it before you know it."
" Mr. Springfield is very much pleased with the appointment," said Mrs. Bowen; "you know  they are good
friends."
" Yes," said Waring; "intimate as brothers."
"And Miss Wordsworth," said Mrs. Bowen,  she says
that he writes as well as he preaches. He has written for
our new paper, and she is very much pleased with his letters. You know that she is a judge of such things."
" Indeed she is," said Waring, " and I agree with her.
The truth is, he has one of the best libraries that I know;
in fact, the very best that I lknow belonging to a traveling preacher. Have you heard him, De Vane, since he
came?e
" No," said De Vane. "I have not been in a church
since you left me."
"Really, Mrs. Bowen," said Waring, "we must look
after this young Virginian. He is far from home, and we
must try to induce him to return to his early habits."
"I like to hear good preaching," said De Vane, "and
will go with you sometimes with pleasure, to hear this
gentleman who is so highly esteemed by you. If yon and




-DE, VANE.                  131
Mrs. Bowen and Mr. Springfield think so well of him, I
am sure that he must be worth hearing."
"He began to preach at eighteen," said Waring, "and
has been a hard student ever since. He is sometimes as
eloquent as Jeremy Taylor, and yet is perfectly unaffected."
Some time after, Waring rose, and saying to Mrs. Bowen that he would come back in the morning, proposed to
return to his hotel.
De Vane accompanied him, and they entered into a conversation about their plans for the future. It was Waring's purpose now to enter upon his theological studies;
and his plan embraced a two years' course. The large
library of Mr. Springfield was open to him, and he should
enjoy the instructions of that gentleman, and of Mr. Arthur, the minister just appointed to the station. Licensed
already to exhort, it was his purpose to engage, as extensively as possible, in the duties of that office, while pursuing his regular course of study. There was not the
slightest cant about him, but he spoke seriously, and even
earnestly, about his work-its duties, responsibilities, and
encouragements.
"Have you seen Mr. Springfield within a few days, De
Vane?"
" No," said he.   I have scarcely made any visits since
you left me."
"He expressed a strong interest in you," said Waring,
"and you ought to see as much of him as possible. He is
a thorough scholar-a man of extraordinary breadth of
view, and one of the most delightful men in conversation
that I have ever met."
"I am very strongly disposed to like him," said De
Vane, "and I have the greatest respect for him; but the
truth is, I hardly know how I have spent the time that
has elapsed since you took your departure. How long has
it been?"




132                    DE VANE.
"Six weeks, to a day," said Waring.
"Is it possible?" exclaimed De Vane. "It seemed an
age when I thought of you; but I did not know that the
winter was so nearly gone."
"Yes," said Waring; "spring is almost here. How
swiftly the winter has gone by! It will soon belong to
the past.  Do you remember, De Vane, the address of
Apollo to Mnemosyne?'I can read
A wondrous lesson in thy silent face.'"
" Yes," replied De Vane, " memory is silent, but a powerful teacher."
"Do you hear any thing of Miss Wordsworth these
days?" asked Waring.
"Only through Mrs. Bowen," he said. "She was describing to me yesterday a scene which was so exquisitely
touching and beautiful, that it has been before me ever
since. It seems, that for some two weeks past, she has
been watching by the side of a little girl dying of consumption."
"Did you hear the name of the child?" asked Waring.
"Eva Gildersleeve. I was struck with its beauty.
"Ah!" said Waring, "I have been looking for that
through the winter, but she must have declined very rapid.
ly, to be in a dying state. She is one of the brightest little
creatures on earth. I know her well. I must call and see
her before it is too late. De Vane, you will excuse me?"
" Certainly; but you will not go to-night?"
"Without a moment's delay," said Waring, and De
Vane, taking leave of him, returned to his lodgings.
Waring walked rapidly to the house where the little
girl was waiting for death. It was a small, neat house,
with a garden in front, and through the closed blinds
Waring saw a light shining cheerfully. He knocked at




DE VANE.                   133
the door, and it was opened by Mrs. Gildersleeve, who instantly recognized him and invited him in.
He entered the room where Eva's little bed was placed,
and in which a cheerful fire was burning. No one was
present but an old colored servant belonging to Mr. Springfield. Aunt Hester-as she was called-was seated near
the bed. She was an excellent nurse, and her qualities
were invaluable. She knew Waring well, and often declared that he was "a saint on earth."  She was of that
class of servants so rarely met with now; faithful, strongly attached to the family of her master, humble, cheerful,
and feeling as deep an interest in the welfare of the family
as if every thing belonged to her.
She rose when the young gentleman entered the room,
and her face showed the pleasure which his coming gave
her.
" How are you, Aunt Hester?" said Waring, frankly extending his hand to her.
"Thank the Lord! Master Waring, I'm well," she said,
with a low courtesy.
Waring walked to the bedside. The little girl was
sleeping.  Her fair hair fell in natural ringlets about her
face; the delicate features were as clear as if cut from marble, and the lips, slightly parted, disclosed the fine regular
teeth. Even in sleep the face was full of expression, and
it was luminous, as if some unseen being whispered in her
ear words which thrilled her.  Waring looked down
silently into her face, and the tears, trembling for a moment on his eyelids, stole down his cheeks.
" So He giveth his beloved sleep," he said, almost unconsciously.
Turning away from the bed, he took a seat near Mrs.
Gildersleeve, and inquired if there were any one to sit up
with the child through the night.
"Yes, sir," she replied, " Miss Wordsworth will be here




134                    DE VANE.
presently.  She comes every night, for Eva will ask for
her if she does not find her by her side. I do not know
how she keeps up, sir, for she has been here every night
for two weeks, except one, and she scarcely sleeps at all."
" Could I not relieve her?" asked Waring.
" I fear not, sir," she said. " I wish some one could, for
it distresses me to see that young lady wearing herself
out. She is an angel on earth, Mr. Waring."
He made no reply, but sat quietly watching the face of
the sleeper. How impressive is such sleep! In all the
wide realm of nature, there is nothing so touching as the
face of a child in sleep! The unconsciousness, the helplessness, the coming future, with its trials, its temptations, its
sufferings, its perils! Who that has bent over the forms
of his own sleeping children has not experienced unutterable emotions? Who has not felt an indefinable sadness
as he thinks of the wide, hard, dreadful road which those
little feet must tread till they stop at the grave, where the
weary head is to be laid down in the long, long sleep?
And who can look down upon such a sight without a
silent prayer to the FATHER, that he would guide the feet
aright and cover the defenseless head?
A carriage drove up to the gate, and Esther came in
silently but quickly.  She saw  Waring, and her face
brightened; a smile broke over it, and as he rose to meet
her, she grasped his hand warmly, saying: "I am very
glad to see you."
"'And I am happy to see you, Miss Esther," he said,
"very happy. I see that our little friend is passing away
from us.' I feared it, but is it not a rapid decline?"
"Very," she said; "she took cold on New-Year's day,
and has been sinking rapidly since then. When did you
return?"
"Only this evening, and hearing that little Eva was in




DE VANE.                   135
a dying state, I hastened to see her. Will you not suffer
me to relieve you to-night? You must need rest."
" No," she said, "she would miss me, and she can stay
but a night or two longer with us. I can not leave her."
"Then," said Waring, "I will come to-morrow night,
and if you will not consent to be relieved, I will watch
with you."
She smiled, and laying aside her wrappings, gave some'
instructions to Aunt Hester, and seated herself by the
bedside.
Waring stood for a moment, looked once more at the
little sleeper, took leave, and walked out of the house,




CHAPTER XIV.
* DEATH is upon me, yet I fear not now.
Open my chamber-window; let me look
Upon the silent vales-the sunny glow
That fills each alley, close, and copsewood nook."
ROBERT NICOLL.
THE  next morning, Waring took possession of his room,
and was for some hours industriously at work, arranging his
books and furniture. De Vane assisted him, and;they felt
as if their college days had returned. Their rooms were
divided by a hall, and both opened upon the street, so that
they wore a cheerful aspect. Their books, which were
numerous, were arranged upon small movable cases, so that
they could be reached without inconvenience; and quite
a number of engravings adorned their walls. There was a
home feeling about their lodgings which gave them a great
charm; and as De Vane surveyed his friend's room, he
looked brighter than Mrs. Bowen had seen him appear for
weeks.
"Well, Waring," he exclaimed, "now we shall be able
to work like Trojans. We may venture to accept Sir Walter Scott's challenge. You know, when he adjusted himself
to his labors-about to enter upon a new field-he said that
he took for his motto,'Time and I against any two.' I
think there are two here that will give him something to do,
if he beats us at hard work."
"You know I am a Methodist," said Waring, "and that
name was applied to us at first because we were exact and
(136)




DE VANE.                    137
methodical in all things. Now, we must adopt system in
our work. None of your sitting up all night. We will
study by rule."
" That's right," said Mrs. Bowen, who stood by, cheerfully
surveying the room. "See to that, Mr. Waring, and we
shall all thank you. Mr. Clarendon says that he sits up
most unreasonably late."
De Vane laughed, and said: "Well, Mrs. Bowen, you
will not send me to bed before twelve o'clock, will you?"
"I think ten o'clock is late enough," she said;" but if
you will really be in bed by twelve, that will be doing so
much better than you have been doing, that we must not
quarrel with you."
"We consider that a treaty, formally agreed on, then,
Mrs. Bowen," said Waring, "and I will undertake to see
that it is carried out in good faith. There is another thing,
too, that I shall insist on, De Vane, and that is, that you and
I walk two miles every evening at sunset, and we will begin
to-day."
" Very well," said De Vane; " you may make it five miles
if you like; and I am with you, through storm and sunshine."
"Two miles will do," said Waring; "and as this is a
bright day, we shall make an auspicious commencement."
Punctually at five o'clock, Waring rapped at De Vane's
door, and reminded him that the hour appointed for their
walk had arrived; and they set out with rapid strides.
They turned their steps toward'hat part of the town where
Mrs. Gildersleeve resided; and as they were passing the
house, Mr. Springfield's carriage dashed up to the door, and
Mrs. Springfield and Miss Wordsworth alighted from it.
The gentlemen instantly stopped, and advancing to the
ladies, spoke with them.
"O Mr. Waring!" exclaimed Esther, "I have just been
sent for. Little Eva is sinking so rapidly, that it is feared




188                    DE VANE.
she will die in the course of a few hours."  Her eyes glistened with tears, and in her eagerness, she laid her hand on
Waring's arm, and looked up into his face, as if he could
help her in this hour of suffering.
"I will go in with you, to see her," he replied. "Mr.
De Vane, will you come with us? This is the little girl
that I spoke of last night."
Mrs. Springfield had already entered the house. Esther
turned her face full upon De Vane, and looked an entreaty
that he would join them. He was touched. He might possibly be wanted; he mightrender some service in this house,
when the angel of death had crossed the threshold, and
was about to lay his dark wings about a helpless child. He
bowed, and entered the house with them. They found the
little girl lying on a sofa that was drawn up in front of the
fire. Her fair curls were brushed away from the face, and
her large blue eyes beamed with expression. As Esther
entered the room with Waring, Eva's face lighted up with
almost celestial radiance, and she turned her eyes on Waring, and said:
I am so glad to see you, sir. Mother told me you had
come."
Waring seated himself in a chair by her side, and taking
her hand, said:
"Yes, my dear little Eva, I came to see you last night,
but you were sleeping, and I would not disturb you."
Esther was kneeling by the sofa, and bending over, she
kissed Eva's forehead. The little girl smiled, and gave her
a look of unutterable love. De Vane stood leaning against
the mantel-piece, while Mrs. Springfield and Mrs. Gildersleeve were seated at the feet of the little girl.
" Mr. Waring, I am so glad to see you. I was not willing
to die till I saw you again. I have heard you so often speak
of Jesus, that I felt anxious to have you here, that I might
tell you how much I love him now."




DE VANE.                     139
"Dear, dear child!" said Waring, "I have long known
that you loved him; and I have often told you that Jesus
loved you."
" Yes," she said, "and I feel it now. It seems to me that
I can almost heal the tones of his voice; and last night, while
I slept, it seemed to me that angels filled the room."
Esther's eyes rained tears, and the large drops rolled
down Waring's face. De Vane was very pale, and his lips
were compressed firmly, as if he braced himself against
emotion.
"Miss Esther," the child said, "has been so kind. I am
sure that the angels in heaven can not be kinder to me
than she has been; and she has talked to me so sweetly
about Jesus, that I felt I loved him more and more."
" My precious little Eva," said Esther, " you may be
sure that Jesus loves you, and that good angels are all
about you."
"Yes, Miss Esther, I know it now. I am going to see
the Lord in his bright abode.  Oh! how bright it is! I
am not afraid to go. I was, for a long time, afraid to die;
but not now; no, not now. I am sorry to leave my mother,
and you, Mr. Waring, and Miss Esther, and my friends;
but heaven is so bright, and Jesus is there, and you will
all be coming before long."
Mrs. Gildersleeve's frame shook with emotion, but she
could not disturb the calm heaven which filled the heart
of her dying child.
" Miss Esther," said the little girl, "is not the sun shining bright?"
"Yes," said Esther, "it is almost sunset; but the evening is very beautiful, dear Eva."
"Well, then," said she, "open the blinds, if you please,
and let me see the sky and the trees once more. I shall
never see them again."
De Vane raised the sash and threw open the blinds.




140                     DE VANE.
The rich, warm rays of the sun streamed in, and the trees
and tall shrubbery about. the house were touched with
colors such as painter never yet spread on canvas.
"It, is a beautiful world," said Eva, "very beautiful;
but I shall soon see a brighter one. Miss Esther, did you
not tell me last night, that Jesus said he would go to prepare a place for us?"
" Yes, my dear Eva," said Esther, " he said so; and it is
a lovely place. So many good people have already gone
there; and the angels are there, and our Lord himself is
there."
The little girl's face was radiant.  Upon her features,
over which an unearthly beauty lingered, the glory of the
upper world was shining.
" Miss Esther," said she, "will you sing for me?"
" My dear, dear Eva, what shall I sing?"
"Oh! the lines that you sang for me when I was so
weary, last week; they are so beautiful!"
Esther calmed herself; and having regained her composure as far as was possible in such a scene, she sang some
lines which the Methodists had introduced into their social
meetings"Oh! sing to me of heaven;"
and as her voice,, almost trembling with the strong emotion
which she could scarcely repress, uttered the words,
"Let music cheer me last on earth,
And greet me first in heaven,"
the lips of the dying child parted, and a smile of more
than earthly brightness illuminated her face. Esther felt
the little hand which she held grasp hers more closely,
and then, with an earnest look upward, she said faintly,
"Heaven!" and the light faded out of her eyes.
"Let us pray," said Waring.  All kneeling, Waring




DE VANE.                     141
breathed a fervent prayer, thanking God for having guided'the little feet of this child. in the way to heaven; entreating
him to enable them all, by his grace, to follow in the same
way, observing the footprints of our ascended Lord; and
imploring the divine blessing upon the mother, now left a
lonely pilgrim on earth.
Waring and De Vane withdrew from the room, and left
the house.
"What a scene," said De Vane; " what a scene! How
nearly weakness and strength touch each other, and the
sublime and the gentle are sometimes brought together!"
"Yes,"  said Waring, "there indeed  weakness and
strength were brought together: a little girl dying in her
weakness, and the strong angel leading her by the hand, and
shining away all her fears."
"It is very wonderful," said De Vane.
"Out of the mouth of babes He can ordain strength,"
replied Waring.
"A sublimer scene I never witnessed," said De Vane;
" a hero perishing in battle can not eclipse that."
"That is. just such a tribute as Rousseau paid to Him
who died for that little girl. You of course remember his
comparing the last hours of Socrates, taking the cup of
poison in the midst of cheerful conversation with his friends,
with the dying hour of our Lord, expiring in the midst of
enemies, and his body torn with anguish, yet praying for his
murderers. The tribute wrung even from that man was the
highest he could yield.'Socrates died like a philosopher;
Jesus Christ like a God.' I tell you, De Vane, that since
the triumph of Jesus Christ, all who trust him may conquer
death."
"That was indeed a victory which we just now witnessed. Of what priceless value that faith must be which can
enable a child even to triumph over such an enemy!"
"Yes," said Waring; " and I hope, De Vane, that you will
soon find it."




142                    DE VANE.
"Ah! Waring," he replied, " I am in mists; sometimes I
fancy that I see the rifts which let in the sunlight, but the
clouds roll once more over the heavens, and the very stars
are blotted out."
Waring did not think it best to press his view of the great
question just now. He knew that De Vane, like a strong
swimmer, would buffet the billows, disdaining help, until
his natural strength was exhausted. He comprehended the
structure of his character-his pride, his candor, his love of
truth, his veneration for all that was really noble and good;
and he inwardly hoped that he would yet exclaim with
Nathanael, when the true light reached his soul: " Thou
art the Son of God: thou art the King of Israel."
The next day was Sunday. De Vane asked Waring at
the breakfast-table when the funeral of the little girl would
take place.
"This evening, I learn," said Waring, "from her mother's
residence."
"It is proper," said De Vane, "that some grown persons
should act as pall-bearers; and, if it be agreeable to her
friends, I will join you in performing that office. I suppose
that you will assist in that way."
"Thank you," said Waring warmly. "It is very kind
of you, and it will gratify us all."
Mrs. Bowen's eyes swam in tears.
At five o'clock, quite a large number of persons assembled at Mrs. Gildersleeve's residence; and among them,
persons of the highest respectability. Mr. Springfield conducted the services. He took no text, but made some remarks, sketched with fine taste the beautiful character of
the little girl, and described her last hours. " Over such a
death," said he, "there can be no bitter tears; the hour for
grief has gone by, the suffering is ended, and the spirit has
found in its native heaven perfect bliss in the smile of Him
who, when on earth, took little children in his arms, and




DE VANE.                     143
blessed them. Let us bear this beautiful, lifeless form to the
grave, where flowers will soon spring over it, and the nightdews will water it. She is not dead, but sleepeth."
Waring and De Vane, with two of the larger boys of the
Sunday-school, walked on either side of the hearse.
Esther saw  De Vane with indefinable emotions. She
knew his aristocratic tastes; and yet here he was, walking
by the side of the remains of a little girl of humble family
to the grave. Mrs. Springfield could not repress her astonishment.
"Esther," said she, " do you observe Mr. De Vane?
The patrician must have something very gentle in his nature."
Dr. Dahlgreen, a warm friend to. Mrs. Gildersleeve, coming up to the carriage, said:
"Bless my soul! Mrs. Springfield, this is the most aristocratic funeral that I have attended in an age. There is
Waring, the first-honor man.  I can account for him  on
the score of his Methodism; but what on earth can have
induced that young Virginian, who is as proudl as Lucifer,
to take his place there?"
Without waiting for an answer, he walked off to his gig,
and followed the procession.
The burial-service was read at the grave, and as the
mound was raised above it, the whole party of Sundayschool children threw flowers upon it. The level rays of
the setting sun streamed over it, and Esther felt as if the
smile of God warmed the lowly couch of the little sleeper.
That night, when Waring had returned from church, De
Vane entered his room, and said:
"Waring, what are Mrs. Gildersleeve's means of living?"
"Very moderate," replied Waring. "She is industrious,
and lives mainly by her own labor."
" She will of necessity incur some unusual expenses now.
Will you be good enough to hand her this?"




144                    DE VANE.
He put into Waring's hand a purse of dark silk, containing one hundred dollars in gold.
"I do not know her personally," he added, " and I do
not wish that she should know that it comes from me. She
might feel hurt at accepting any thing from a stranger."
"It is very kind of you," said Waring, "and I will see
that she receives it."
"Thank you," said De Vane.
"Sit down," said Waring. "I took tea at Mr. Springfield's this evening, and he and Mrs. Springfield both enjoined it upon me to urge you to visit them. You must do so;
it will be good for you in every way."
"I go nowhere," said De Vane; "there is absolutely so
much to do, that by the time I get through with a day's
work, I am not fit for any thing."
"You will get on better with our systematic way of doing things. Remember the wholesome motto,' Festina lente.'
An occasional visit to such a family as Mr. Springfield's will
do you good in every way."
"Well, I will go with you, and if you find me becoming
idle, you must admonish me.  By the way, I heard Mir.
Clarendon promise Mrs. Habersham that he would take you
to see her. What do you say to that?"
"I am very much obliged to him, I'm  sure," said Waring. " I should think her house a very attractive one."
"Yes, and filled with works of art, I'm told. I met her
at Mr. Clarendon's, some short time since. Miss Godolphin
was with her, and was as splendidly beautiful as ever. But
it is very strange that she seems to be so sad. I do not understand it."
" Did she appear so when you last met her?"
" Oh! yes; more unmistakably than before."
"I can not comprehend it. She must have suffered. She
is certainly an extraordinary person."




DE VANE.                    145
"Very," said De Vane. "She is brilliant. We must
solve the mystery."
" Take care 1" said Waring; " she may be dangerous."
" Just what Mr. Clarendon said; but she disclaimed it,
in terms of sadness which absolutely impressed me with
their earnestness. But I am trespassing upon you. Good
night!"
" Good night!" said Waring. " You're going to bed?"' Oh! yes. I am somewhat fatigued to-night."
He entered his room; but he did not retire immediately.
He sat before his fire in deep thought. The scenes of the
day were before him-the grave of little Eva strewn with
flowers, and the form of Esther bending over it, and bedewing it with her tears. Even when he slept, the form
of Esther floated before him, and seemed to rise heavenward, her face turned toward him, and smiling in the midst
of her tears.
7




CHAPTER XV.
" WINTER is worn-that was the flowers' bale.
And thus I see among these pleasant things
Each care decay, and yet my sorrow springs."
LORD SURREY.
SPRING  opened gloriously.  Every vestige of winter
was gone.  Leaves, flowers, birds, all appeared.  The air
was balmy; the trees were vocal; windows were raised,
and doors thrown open.  The town-remarkable for its
fine gardens, its shrubbery and trees-was full of sweet
odors and cheerful sounds.  Leasowes was beautiful; its
shrubbery and flowers were never finer.  The graveled
walks and grassy slopes were delightful. The clear water
filled the marble basin to overflowing, and the birds filled
its shady recesses with joyous notes. The walks of the
public garden were thronged; and nurses drew in Lilliputian carriages, their little charges over its smooth walks.
There is something in the smile of nature to awaken the
soul.  It cheers the rich and the poor alike; and unlike
the luxuries of the artificial world, the flowers, the trees,
the balmy air, and the music of birds, may be had without
money and without price.  The benevolence of God scatters, without stint, flowers in the wilderness; and the
laborer in the fields may smell the sweet breath of the
earth, and survey the wide expanse of woods and sky.
Thank God for the deep-blue heavens, for the great trees,
for the wild flowers, for the birds of the air, for little
bright streams, for majestic rivers, for the wide sea, for
(146)




DE VANE.                   14T
hills and valleys and the great mountains, for solitudes
in the wilderness, and for great water-falls which utter
his praise in reverberating tones of thunder! Thank God
for the green grass, for meadows where cattle graze, fof
the glory of ripening grain and fruits, for the splendor of
summer verdure, for the yellow autumnal harvests, for the
stern magnificence of winter!
All nature utters her deep hymn of praise, and breathes
her incense. Let the thanksgiving from human-hearts
mingle with the pure adoration of our MOTHER EARTH!
De Vane had become a regular visitor at Mr. Springfield's, where he was sure to find a warm welcome.  ir.
Springfield felt a high respect for him, and enjoyed his
conversation, which took a wide range. He saw that the
young Virginian was ambitious; but he saw, too, that he
was generous.  His aspirations were not for distinction
merely, but for usefulness. Not for. the applause of mankind only, but for the richer applause of his own consciousness of deserving honors. Too proud to stoop, the warmth
of his nature made him enter, with ready sympathy, into
the condition even of the poor and humble. Some of his
warmest friends were among laboring men. There was a
stone-cutter employed upon one of the public buildings, a
man of intelligence,-with whom De Vane contracted a sort
of intimacy. He was cutting a Corinthian cap, one day,
as De Vane was passing, and the young student stopped
to speak with him; examined the pattern by which the
man was working, and explained to him the origin of that
order of architecture, suggesting, at the same time, that
the pattern was too stiff, and that it would be in better
taste, if thie leaves were somewhat more curved. The man,
being one of the head workmen, acted upon the suggestion, and finding his work greatly improved by it, was
pleased. He became a fast friend of De Vane, and was in
the habit of saying that the young student knew moro




148                   DE VANE.
about stone-cutting than he did. The blacksmith, who
shod the horse which De Vane often rode, was very deferential, and did not hesitate to say that the young Virginian could beat him at his own trade.
Mr. Springfield found his range of reading so wide, that
he declared himself always refreshed after an hour's conversation with De Vane. They often spoke of Moral
Science, and the depth of De Vane's views surprised him.
He carefully avoided controversy with him; but suggested
lines of thought which he knew would help to conduct the
noble, ardent, truthful nature of his young friend, to the
spot from which he could look out upon the harmonies of
the realm of truth. Mrs. Springfield became much interested in him. She learned from Waring his kindness to
Mrs. Gildersleeve, and it deepened her respect for him.
Highly cultivated herself, De Vane enjoyed her conversation, and spoke with less reserve to her, perhaps, than to
any one else, except Waring. He learned to venerate her
true piety, and never, in her presence, uttered a word
which could give her pain.
His intercourse with Esther was delightful to him. She
grew in his esteem, and her acquirements and accomplishments filled him with admiration. He learned one fact,
which he had not discovered in their early acquaintance,
that there was a deep enthusiasm pervading her character.
He had thought her somewhat too grave, and possibly
cold, when he first met her. He saw her passion for music,
but even that awakened the thought that she might love
that too well to be able to love any thing else with ardor.
But he now observed, as he was oftener with her, that her
nature was full of ardor-ardor perfectly well regulated,
and under the dominion of reason and principle; but there
was ardor. Like the soil which produces the finest grapes,
there was a warmth which could not be felt on the surface,
but which made its presence known by the fruit which it




DE VANE.                   149
yielded, and diffused itself in the generous wine which exhilarated without intoxicating. He needed,no urging now
from Waring to induce him to visit Mr. Springfield's; and
his friend smiled as he saw the change, but did not remark upon it to him, further than to say, that he was
pleased to see him learning to prize good society.
"Haven't I always done that, Waring?" he replied, when
his friend made the remark to him.
" Why, some time ago," said Waring, " there was no inducing you to go anywhere, and you seemed to waste your
sweetness either on your books, or in conversation with your
friend Stiles the stone-cutter, or Hobbs the blacksmith, or
Swan the public gardener."
" Now, Waring," he answered, " you know that I always
would inflict myself upon you, and that I did visit Mr. Clarendon's, from the first. You are not growing aristocratic,
are you?"
"Oh! no, not at all, but I thought you a little inclined
that way; and I did not exactly comprehend your liking
for the blacksmith, who does swear outrageously."
De Vane laughed, and said: "Yes, I'm trying to break
him of that habit. I tell him that it is not gentlemanlike,
but he doesn't seem to feel the force of the appeal; for I
heard him  yesterday calling my horse some very hard
names, because he did not choose to have one of his hindfeet held up in the air for thirty minutes."
"You'll have to give him up, unless you reform him.
But what do you say to our calling this evening at Mrs.
Habersham's?"
"Quite at your service," said De Vane. "'You have
been there, I believe, once or twice?"
" Yes," said Waring. "Mr. Clarendon invited me to an
evening drive with him soon after my return from Georgia,
you remember, and we called on the ladies. They were




150                     DE VANE.
good enough to invite me to visit them, and I have been
there once or twice since."
" And how do you find Miss Godolphin?  Is she still the
queen of night?'
" I do not comprehend her," said Waring; "but she is
a very interesting person, and, if I do not mistake, she is a
noble woman-full of character."
"As to character," said De Vane, "she has enough of
that; and there is a fascination about her. Her beauty,
her genius, her accomplishments, her sadness, invest her
with a wonderful charm."
"So they do,' said Waring., "She is a person, too, of
great generosity; her appreciation of others is fine. She
speaks of Miss Wordsworth in a way that is very pleasing."
" She could not do less," said De Vane.  " Miss Wordsworth's qualities would awaken admiration anywhere; and
her purity is such, that even her own sex must admire her."
"Yes," said Waring; "and do you know that though
very unlike in person, both being impersonations of the
highest but different styles of beauty, I think their organization strikingly similar?"
"Indeed!" said. De Vane. "I think Miss Wordsworth
the most cheerful-I may say, the happiest person I ever
knew, grave as she generally is, while Miss Godolphin
seems to be the very impersonation of sadness."
"That does not prove a difference in organization so
much as in circumstances. They are both cultivated, thoroughly accomplished, full of enthusiasm, passionately fond'
of music, of great depth of character; but Miss Wordsworth is a Christian —has never felt in her nature the
awakening of human passion, and has never known disap
pointment. Miss Godolphin has suffered in some way, in
what way I do not know.  1 Her pride must have been
wounded, and she may have been deceived in some object
of her regard. Her history during her stay in Europe is




DE VANE.                      151
not known to me. But she is a splendid woman of very
noble nature.  Of that I am sure."
De Vane smiled, but said only: " I shall be pleased to
know her better. You have interested me in her."
" I learned to-day," said Waring, " that, hearing of the
affliction of Mrs. Gildersleeve, the day after the funeral she
drove to the desolate home, and passed an hour in conversation with the bereaved mother, and with great delicacy
supplied her with articles of mourning. Esther's gifts and
Miss Godolphin's have relieved every want of that kind,
and your generous donation has made her altogether comfortable."
After early tea, the two gentlemen called at Mrs. Iabersham's. It was a large brick mansion, built in the English
style, the offices being in a range with the main building;
and it was furnished in the most costly way. English carpets covered the floors; the furniture, also imported, was
massive and rich, and the walls were adorned with paintings-copies chiefly of the great masters.
Miss Godolphin's father had married a younger sister of
Mrs. Habersham. Both parents were dead, and Mr. Hatersham also; and the two ladies, soon after the death of those
who were so dear to them, had gone to Europe, where they
resided for several years. Mrs. Habersham was wealthy,
and Miss Godolphin's fortune was ample.
The gentlemen were received at the door by a footman in
livery, and shown into a drawing-room exquisitely fitted up.
A grand piano-forte stood near the middle of the room, and
a harp was not far from it, by which a chair was placed, as
if it had been just occupied. Light chairs of different patterns were distributed over the floor, and two sofas, of
graceful form, and covered with chintz, were on either side
of the fire-place. On the mantle-piece, a French clock, representing Sappho leaping into the sea, was placed, and over
it hung a portrait of Miss Godolphin, in the highest style




152                    DE VANE.
of art. It was a half-length. The attitude was that of contemplation. The head, slightly drooped, rested"on one of the
hands; the hair, parted simply in front, was gathered in a
full band at the back of the head; the other hand held a
Tuscan bonnet, wreathed with wild flowers, as if it had
been just covered with these natural adornments; and the
back-ground afforded a view of the sea. The picture was
exquisite, of great merit as a work of art, and the likeness
was striking.
Waring had never seen it, this being his first introduction to this room; and he and De Vane were standing observing the picture, when the door was opened, and Miss
Godolphin entered.
She received the gentlemen with warmth, and expressed
her gratification at their visit, saying that Mrs. Habersham
would soon join them.
"We were observing your picture, Miss Godolphin," said
Waring, " and we thought it every way a triumph of art."
" It is thought to be so by all who have seen it," she
replied. " It is the work, too, of an American artist."
" That enhances its value," said Waring.
" Yes," she said. " I am intensely American. We found,
in Naples, a countryman of ours who has been in Italy for
years. He passed two years in Paris, and then went to
Florence, afterward to Rome, and when we met him he
had taken a villa near Naples, and was attracting' large
numbers of English and American travelers. He painted
that picture."
"He will return to this country, I suppose?" said De
Vane.
" That is by no means certain," she said. " His world
is that of art. He paints but few portraits; but his
favorite subject is, nevertheless, the human face. He has
a picture of extraordinary power, representing Jephthah's
daughter going out to meet her victorious father. The




DE VANE.                     153
contrast between her glorious, exultant face, full of pride
and joy, and the anguish which speaks from every feature
of the hero, is wonderful."
As De Vane looked at the portrait before him, he fancied
that it might resemble the Jewish maiden after she learned
her fate; but he did not venture to say so.
" There is another of his pictures," she said, rising and
walking across the room.  It represented the daughter
of HIerodias bearing the head of John the Baptist to her
mother. The conception was original: the maiden bore the
grand head upon a silver dish, and her averted face showed her horror of the act which she was performing under
the injunction of her imperious mother. The form and
face were superb, and the whole picture a great success.
Departing from the usual ideal, the artist had given the
maiden auburn hair and blue eyes. The rich, heavy ringlets fell about the face, and the hair, gathered in a braid
on the back of the head, was clasped by a golden serpent.
Tears stood in the lustrous eyes, and tenderness touched
the features, giving to the face a blended expression of
anguish and compassion. The form  was stately for so
young a person, and a matchless grace was in the attitude.
De Vane was startled at observing, in the whole form and
features, a close resemblance to Esther. She might have
stood for the picture; and gazing upon it for some minutes
in silence, he found his eyes moisten. There is wonderful
power in a picture, and as De Vane stood before this, he
really was conscious of an intenser interest in Esther than
he was aware of before. He had never analyzed his sentiments; he had formed no purposes; and he was startled
to find himself so moved by a representation which associated her with a scene of horror and suffering. The real
state of the heart is often disclosed to us suddenly. It is
especially so in great and generous natures. A dream, a
leave-taking, a song, the presence of danger, or the hand.7*




154                    DE VANE.
of suffering laid upon the object, wakes up within us the
consciousness of the depth of a sentiment whose existence
we had not suspected before. Startled, alarmed, we wake
to the real, where before we had been reposing in dreamy
listlessness; and we realize what Comus experienced when
he heard the music which arrested his steps, and filled him
with wonder.
"De Vane," said Waring, "do you find any resemblance
between that form, and any of our friends?"
"It is wonderful!' exclaimed De Vane.
" Of course," said Miss Godolphin, " I know that you
see in it a strong resemblance to Miss Wordsworth. Do
you know that it is so faithful, I am myself amazed at it?
The first time that I met her, her face was perfectly familiar to me. I could not recall it. She was so very young
when I left for Europe, that I did not know her; but yet,
upon seeing her upon my return, I found myself startled.
I could not say why, but the thought that I had known
her elsewhere haunted me; nor could I account for it until
some two weeks since, when our pictures were brought
home and unboxed. Then, when this was hung, I saw in
an instant what had so long bewildered lme."
" It is very remarkable," said Waring.
" It is positively wonderful," said Miss Godolphin.  " If
it were only that some features resembled, it might be accounted for by supposing it to be the meeting of the ideal
and the actual in some accidental way, which I think often
occurs; but here is every thing-hair, eyes, mouth, the
bust, the very form; and, I repeat, it is nothing short of
marvelous. The artist valued the picture highly, was reluctant to part with it, and would not sell it to me; but as
we had purchased several large and costly pictures from
him, he presented that to me, saying that it would gd to
the very place where he desired to be known and appreciated by his works.




DE VANE.                     155
"It is very strange," said De Vane.  "A more perfect
likeness I never saw. Can it be possible that the artist
has seen Miss Wordsworth?"
"Oh! no," she said.  " Ie went abroad when she was
a child."
"Do you remember, Miss Godolphin," said De Vane,
"to have seen it stated that a man of science, having observed the effect of the dome of St. Peter's upon the beholder, and thinking it perfect in its proportions, he resolved to measure it? He did so. He tested the strength of the
curve, and he found that the arch of the dome was the
curve of greatest strength; thus making the discovery
that the lines of beauty and strength were identical.  Michael Angelo sought for artistic effect in its construction,
and that conducted him to strength; so that the dome is
matchless."
"The incident is charming," said Miss Godolphin; "and
do you know, Mr. De Vane, that you have paid a very
striking tribute to the beauty of Miss Wordsworth, by
accounting for the resemblance which we all see, upon the
principle that the artist pursuing his line of ideal loveliness, we find it verified by the real?"
De Vane colored, and bowed.
"But you need not be ashamed, Mr. De Vane, at the
thought of having committed high treason against a lady
in her own realm, by laying down the proposition that the
perfection of beautyis to be found in a style wholly differ-ent from her own;for I quite agree with you, that Miss
Wordsworth is perfect."
" Pardon me, Miss Godolphin," he said.  "In the human
face, widely different styles may yet be perfect."
"Thanks, Mr. De Vane," said she. "It is so gracefully
atoned for, that you need not regret the treason."
Waring and De Vane were both surprised. They had
never seen her so bright.




156                   DE VANE.
Mrs. Habersham came in, and renewed the welcome to
the gentlemen.
The conversation turned upon foreign travel, and Mrs.
Habersham expressed her gratification at being once more
at home, declaring that nothing could induce her to go
abroad again.
"It is a pleasure that I promise myself," said De Vane,
"and I should not willingly relinquish it."
"Of course," said Mrs. Habersham, "you should go; nor
do I regret having gone, but I would not tempt the ocean
again."
"To me," said Waring, " it would be very agreeable to
visit Europe; but if I ever cross,the Atlantic, I shall go
to the East. It must be deeply interesting to trace the
rise and progress of civilization, and to explore the countries where the most important events have occurred.
The Nile and the Holy Land would be irresistible to me,
if there were no barriers between us."
"I felt just as you do, Mr. Waring," said Miss Godolphin;
" but my aunt and myself had no one upon whom we were
willing to impose ourselves for such a journey. My uncle,
who was with us, is an old gentleman, of confirmed habits,
and loves his ease. He declared that the very idea ol
being subjected to the tender mercies of the outlandish
people who hold those countries, once the seats of civilization, made him shiver.'Then, too,' said he,'where
would one find cafe au lait for breakfast, and truffles for
dinner?'"
"Yes," said Mrs. Habersham.  "Yet Godolphin has
lived so much in Paris and London, that he will never reside even in this country permanently."
"Very bad taste it is, I think," said Miss Godolphin.
"England is to me intolerable, though most of my relatives
are there. I love the vigorous, active, boundless life which
opens before me in this young country."




DE VANE.                   157
"I rejoice to hear you say so, Miss Godolphin," said
Waring.
" Yes," said Mrs. Habersham, " Hortensia is thoroughly
American, quite as much so as I am."
"Still," said De Vane," there must be much to admire
in England; and social life is in perfection there."
"Very far from it," said Miss Godolphin. "Of course
there is refinement and cultivation; but there is a great
deal of heartlessness too, and there must be where the
social organization is so artificial and frigid."
" I had not supposed so," said De Vane. " Some of our
Virginia families find their chief delight in visiting England, and passing months with their relatives in that
country."
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "I know it. The Guilfords, for instance.  But, Mr. De Vane, I do not sympathize with them. I am an American woman, and I rejoice in being able to claim such a country for my own.
How I exulted in undeceiving them when on the Continent! I was mistaken for an Englishwoman; and how
they opened their eyes with amazement when I told them
I was an American!"
All laughed, and Waring said:
" You do not know, Miss Godolphin, how much pleasure
it gives me to hear you speak in this way."
" Oh!" said she, " I have no patience with women who
come home from their travels, only to look with disdain
upon every thing here, and to sigh for luxuries which
they have left behind them."
"You rouse my patriotism, Miss Godolphin," said De
Vane. "I shall hope to return home, if I ever make my
tour, as loyal as you are."
" I do not doubt it, Mr. De Vane," she said. "You are
too earnest to be captivated by any thing artificial, however brilliant it may be."




158                    DE VANE.
" Thank you," said De Vane.  "I shall hope to deserve
your confidence."
"There is one thing we ought to do, however," said
she; "we ought to exert ourselves to cultivate the taste
of our people, and to import every thing good that we
can from abroad. I love my country, and I wish to see
society here what it ought to be, exhibiting the only aristocracy worth calling by the name; a system that admits
the true, the good, the cultivated, the men of soul and
intellect, and the women of worth and culture, into its
highest circle, no matter how humble their birth, or how
poor their fortunes. An aristocracy of birth is simply
ridiculous; for I have seen people of the very best families, as they are called, as vulgar and stupid as possible."
Waring and De Vane both looked at her with admiration; she was so noble, so full of courage, so disinterested.  She could afford to utter such sentiments without
the fear of misconstruction, for her own family was really
aristocratic.
"Yes," she continued, "to see some of these specimens
of noble blood, inferior in form, in mind, in manners, assuming airs and treated with deference, has roused me so
that I could scarcely be civil."
"You are right, Hortensia," said Mrs. Habersham. "I
have seen you at times when you were scarcely civil to
some of the people we met abroad. Your uncle was distressed."
"Very sorry," she said; "but my American blood was
up, and I could have defied the whole House of Lords."
They all laughed heartily. Waring asked for music.
Her whole aspect changed, and the habitual sadness returned upon her.
"And do you love music, Mr. De Vane?" she asked.
"Passionately," he replied; " yes, passionately."
She rose, and took her seat by the harp.




DE VANE.                      159
"I will not venture to touch the piano this evening,"
she said.  "If I had Miss Wordsworth here to accompany
me, I should gladly do so.  What a voice she has! I
assure you that I have never heard it rivaled in so young
a person.  In four years more, if she cultivates herself, she
will surpass any one that I know, on the stage or off it."
She touched the strings; they breathed the sweetest
harmony.  The low tender notes were almost human in
their utterance; and she sang::' When'midst the gay I meet
That gentle smile of thine,
Though still on me it turns most sweet,
I scarce can call it mine;
But when to me alone
Your secret tears you show,
Oh! then I feel those tears my own,
And claim them whilst they flow."
She sang the entire song, and then, rising from  the instrument, seated herself near De Vane.
He thanked her for the song, and spoke of the exquisite
beauty of the figure-of the frozen snow on Jura's steep
melting under a glance of fire.
" Yes," she replied, " it is very beautiful. M-r. De Vane,
you are young; you are ambitious, too, I know. Do not
suffer your tastes to mislead you.  You will go to Europe.
I heard the Guilfords speak of you.  Do be loyal to your
country."
"That I shall be," said he.  " I am as thoroughly republican as you are. l'y tastes in social life might lead me
far; but as to my political principles, they are perfectly
well established."
" I am  rejoiced to hear you say so. It is a grand thing
to be a true man."
After some general conversation, the gentlemen rose to




160                    DE VANE.
leave.  Mrs. HIabershanm  expressed the wish that they
would often visit her house; and with thanks for the invitation, they bade the ladies good-night.
On their way to their lodgings, both expressed their
admiration for Miss Godolphin.
".Mehercule! Waring," said De Vane, "she is magnificent."
"Very fine," said Waring. "Really, a noble woman.
How animated she was this evening!"
" Yes," said De Vane. "I should like to see the Alpine
snow fairly melted."
"What a republican she is!" said Waring. "I had no
idea of it."
" Nor I," said De Vane. "I supposed she was as aris
tocratic in her ideas as she is in her appearance. I like her
intense patriotism. We must see her often."
Waring was by this time in deep thought, and De Vane
walked by his side in silence.
As they entered the house, Waring said: " De Vane,
Miss Godolphin is the most extraordinary person I have
ever known. We must see her often."
" May she not be dangerous?" said De Vane, opening
the door of his room.
" Ah! you are quoting Mr. Clarendon," said Waring.
" Good night!"




CHAPTER  XVI.' Now, thanks to Heaven, that of its grace
Hath led me to this lovely place I
Joy have I had."
WORDSWORTH.
DE VANE had ordered, from the stone-cutter, Mr. Stiles,
a monument for the grave of Eva Gildersleever and as he
had not yet seen it since it was erected, he walked alone
to the cemetery, that he might examine it.  It was a little
earlier than the hour when he usually took his evening
walk with Waring, and it was some few days after they
had made their visit to Mrs. Habersham's. He had not
met Esther since; but she had been with him, in that spiritual way which we have all experienced. In his daydreams and night-dreams her form was before him. His
interest in her had deepened strangely. Still he did not
enter into an analytical examination of his sentiments toward her, nor had he formed any purpose in regard to her.
Ambitious yet ardent, he had formed large plans for his
future, and he had no thought of entangling himself just
now in any way that might hinder their grandest development; yet he was conscious of the pleasure which he
enjoyed in the society of Esther. She grew constantly in
his esteem; and so completely had he come within the
sphere of her attraction, that he found himself seeking her
presence oftener than he had ever-before sought the society
of any one. He selected books for her, and her library
grew under his contributions. He sketched for her, and
(161)




162                   DE VANE.
in her chamber there hung several views of the Virginia
mountains, which his own hand had produced.
The cemetery was in the midst of a small forest of natural trees, chiefly pines, and was on a gentle eminence that
afforded a view of the soft Southern landscape that spread
through the valley of the river and took in the hills beyond it. It was a place of resort for those who had relatives or friends there; and strangers at times visited it, to
observe the tasteful decorations which affection had bestowed upon the graves of the loved and departed who
slept there. There were a few very handsome monuments,
and quite a number of smaller ones.
De Vane walked through the grounds, silent but for
the songs of birds. They made the place vocal with their
joyous notes, as if they would cheer the watchers over
those who slept there; and sometimes, soaring heavenward,
seemed to invite them to look there for consolation.
He found the grave of Eva. It was a grassy mound,
and on the centre of it, a square, white marble block was
placed, upon which stood a vase of the purest Italian marble, encircled with the name of EVA  GILDERSLEEVE.
Through the letters a running vine was carved, bearing
leaves and half-opened flowers. Mr. Stiles had shown
great skill in carrying out the design which De Vane had
handed to him. The vase was an open one, intended to
receive earth, that it might bear natural flowers.
De Vane stood looking at'the work, and his mind reverted to the evening when the little child who slept under the turf expired. Her sweetness, her faith, her tranquil
leave-taking of the world-all came to view vividly. He
saw, too, the group about the dying child-Esther clasping the wasted little hand while she sang of heaven; and
involuntarily he asked himself if it could be possible, that
the spirit then beaming through the features, luminous
even in death, could have ceased to live. He was lost in




DE VANE.                   163
thought, and stood leaning against a tree. Suddenly he
was roused by a step just at his side, and turning, he saw
Esther. He started. Her presence was so unexpected,
that she seemed to have come from the world of spirits
to solve the doubts which were gathering about his soul.
She was dressed in white, and her graceful form appeared
almost unearthly in its loveliness.
"I did not know that I should find you here, Mr. De
Vane," she said, " or I sh'ould not have ventured to disturb
your visit to our little friend's grave."
He instantly advanced, and gave her his hand.
" Nothing could be more agreeable to me, MAiss Wordsworth," he said, "than your coming. I had not yet seen
the monument placed over Eva, and I came to examine it."
" It is very beautiful. I have seen it. I came last Sunday evening with my aunt, and we both admired it
greatly. Nothing could be more appropriate-flowers interwoven with the name. The design is, of course, yours?"
"Yes; I was so impressed by the scene which I witnessed when she died, that I would not deny myself the
happiness of paying this little tribute to her memory."
" We are all deeply indebted to you. She was an extraordinary little girl, as you saw, and her triumph was glorious. It was so serene; and I think, Mr. De Vane, that
the serene is most to be desired in our last moments."
"Oh! yes; a calm death is always beautiful."
"It realizes what is spoken so beautifully of the Christian's death-' falling asleep in Jesus.' "
De Vane was silent.
"I have come, Mr. De Vane, to fill the vase with flowers-such flowers as will grow and bloom perpetually."
She called a servant who stood near the gate, and he
came forward with an earthen vase filled with earth and
flowers, and taking it from his hands, she was about to
transplant them into the marble vase.




164                    DE VANE.
"Allow me," said De Vane; " this must _be a joint labor
with us."
She yielded to him. He took the earthen pot, and care
fully transferred the contents to the marble vase. Esther
directing the servant to bring some water from the little
stream which ran near the spot, she watered the flowers
which De Vane had planted. Pausing for a few moments
to look at their work, they turned away silently, and
walked through the graveyard. The conversation naturally turned upon the scene about them.
" To me, Mr. De Vane," said Esther, " this is a cheerful
place. I look upon these hillocks as beds, where weary
pilgrims are resting. But they will- awake out of their
sleep."
"Do you know that you have almost literally quoted a
line from the Swedish poet Tegner?-'Where his fathers sleep in their hillocks green.'"
" No, I did not know the line. But what is it but another rendering of our Lord's words, and of those of the
apostles? After all, the Bible is the source of all beauty,
as it is of all wisdom."
"It is a wonderful book, and I read it with increasing
admiration. I can scarcely comprehend how such a book
as that called JOB could have been produced in so early
an age. Older than the poetry of Greece, it surpasses in
sublimity any thing in Homer."
"I am much pleased to hear you say so, for I know your
admiration for the classics."
"Oh! yes. I do not modify to any extent my settled
estimate of classical literature, but I have been astonished of late, in reading the book of Job, to find it so full
of the sublime as well as the beautiful.'-Hst thou entered into the springs of the sea?  Have the gates of




DE VANE.                    165
death been opened unto thee?  Or hast thou seen the
doors of the shadow of death?' As if death were a dread
monarch, whose lofty gates, yet invisible to mortals, threw
their appalling shadow over the world. Then the glorious marshaling of the constellations in their nightly circuits.' Canst thou bind the sweet influence of Pleiades?
or loose the bands of Orion?  Canst thou bring forth
Mazzaroth in his season? or canst thou guide Arcturus
with his sons? Knowest thou the ordinances of- heaven?
Canst thou set the dominion thereof in the earth?' The
description of the war-horse is the noblest picture of the
kind in the writings of any age or people."
Esther looked at him as he spoke with great animation,
uttering the sentences which he quoted in a way to give
them their greatest effect, with admiration.
"And do you not find," she asked, "in the New Testament much to interest you?  Is it possible to read the
Evangelists without feeling their inspiration?   Or to
listen to the teachings of our Lord, with their gentleness,
their purity, their spiritual power, without being thrilled
and awed as if the Divinity stood in our midst? O Mr.
De Vane! you must see that in the life and the death of
our Lord, there is a higher sublimity than in all else that
has been made known to us. How immeasurably his teachings transcend those of men! What is there in the words
of Socrates to rival. them? He did not venture to teach
positive truth. All he aimed at was an approximation to
the true, the real, the immortal. And the fine speculations of Plato charm us by their beauty, but after all
they are but speculations. In this wide world we need a
sure guide, and when we approach the boundaries of the
invisible world, we look for some strong arm to bear us up,
and steady our tottering steps."
Her face was radiant, as she stood for a moment and
looked up to De Vane.




166                    DE VANE.
"The aspirations of humanity," he said, "are such as
you represent them to be, Miss Wordsworth. A traveler
upon a wide plain, far from home at night, does not turn
his eyes more anxiously to the heavens to see if he can
find a guiding-star, or pause and listen with suppressed
breath for some human voice, more earnestly than does
man in his pilgrimage for some sure guidance. Life is full
of dread mysteries. The future is the unknown."
"Oh! not unknown. It is true we see dimly through
the mists which surround us, but it is not best for us,
while in this state of discipline, to have revealed to us too
clearly the objects of a future world. But the future is
not covered with impenetrable clouds. Through the rifts
golden rays come, and upon this sea of life, tossed as it is
sometimes with tempests, there is heard a voice which
says:'Be not afraid.''
"You are happy in your faith, Miss Wordsworth.
Would that I could share it! But while I would not, if I
could, disturb to the slightest extent the beautiful repose
of your nature upon a base that seems to you so solid, I
should be uncandid ifI did not say to you how hard I find
the task of submitting my reason to the dominion of any
system which I do not comprehend. I see the beauty of
Christianity, but I do not understand its great mysteries."
"And do you not intend to seek to explore what is so
awful in its relations to us?  Surely you will not live so
as to have it said of you, with all your rich endowment of
mind, in the language of my namesake, William Wordsworth:'The intellectual power through words and things
Went sounding on a dim and perilous way."
"I should be too happy," he said, " to be able to make
my escape from a path which the Poet of the Lakes has so
powerfully described; but how shall it be done? I stand




DE: VANE.                   167
upon a sea of doubt, and if I would borrow wings to bear
me across it, I fear that, like those of Icarus, they would
fail me, and leave me to perish in the waves."
"You will perish, if you tirust to. any of the inventions
of man. There is one book that teaches us the way to the
invisible world, where the good of all ages will be assembled. The teachings of man will mislead us. The world
is full of illusions; it deceives and flatters but the Bible
does neither. It teaches that even the best must suffer.
It invites us to tread a narrow path, but it is a path which
the true, the good, the heroic have trod. Suffering and
tears have stained it; but the feet of HIim who came to
seek and to save that which was lost have consecrated it."
They walked on in silence. The western heaven was
iespendent. The clouds which floated through it seemed
to be phantom ships, their sails illumined. The delicate
opal spread wide above the deep orange that rested on the
horizon. A single star glittered inthe pure depths of boundless ether. A shoreless sea of glory appeared to stretch
beyond the visible objects. Esther stood gazing upon the
glowing heavens. She seemed to forget the presence of
De Vane. The lingering light played upon her features,
and kindled a glory about her brow, such as the old painters love to trace upon the head of the Virgin; and she
uttered, in tones scarcely audible, those words, so full of
consolation to a stricken world: " God is love."
De Vane never forgot the picture. It entered his soul,
and spread through it the light of immortal beauty. - Upon
the wide sea and in far distant lands, he often recalled it;
and the words uttered by those pure lips, over which no
earthly passion had ever breathed, sounded in his ears as
if a celestial being spoke to him.
Neither moved for some minutes. Esther. then turned
to De Vane, and said:
" It is time we should return."




168                    DE VANE.
They retraced their steps to the gate of the graveyard,
where Mr. Springfield's crariage was drawn up, awaiting
Esther. She invited De Vane to take a seat with her, and
he, handing her into the carriage, entered it also; and they
drove away. When they reached Mr. Springfield's residence, that gentleman came to the carriage to receive
Esther, and seeing De Vane, invited him to go in with them
and pass the evening. The invitation was accepted; It
was the first time that he had taken tea in this way with
the family. His evenings had frequently been passed there,
but he had called at a later hour, and somewhat in a formal
way; and as he took his seat at the table, he felt that he
was now really welcomed into the unrestrained confidence
of the house, as a friend. There is a charm about the ease
and unrestraint of sitting down to a tea-table in the evening with friends. It dissolves the little frost-work of ceremony instantly; familiar topics spring up, and we discuss
in a genial way whatever interests us.
The table was spread with luxuries; early fruits, strawberries abounded, and rich cream, and snowy curds..Flowers were on the table, and they lent a refreshing air of refinement to it. Mrs. Springfield did not disdain housekeeping, and the tastefulness of her establishment and the
elegance of her entertainments were universally known.
What a charm there is about such a home! How the picture comes up to us now of one in the far South, where
purity and goodness, and unwearying kindness, and the
patient ministry of self-sacrificing love, abounded! The
presiding form is gone; the true, steady blue eyes are
closed, and the busy hands gently laid across each other in
the still sleep which will not last always!
Esther sat opposite to De Vane, and never appeared more
attractive.  Her pure white dress was becoming to her,
and in her rich hair she wore wild flowers, the long crimson drops mingling with her curls.




DE VANE.                     169
"Is it your first visit to our graveyard, Mr. De Vane?"
asked Mr. Springfield.
"Yes, my first."
"We often go there, and find it any thing but a gloomy
place. There should be more care bestowed upon it, and
then I think it would be really attractive."
"Yes, I think so. I was surprised to find so much taste
displayed in the tombs; for often one is offended by the
neglected graves which he sees, or by the bad taste shown
in their decoration."
" I have often observed it," said Mr.- Springfield; "for
I make it a rule, in my travels, always to visit the burialplaces of the cities, and even villages, where I stop for a
day or two. To read the epitaphs is to me a source of
endless interest."
"And how strange some of them  are!" said De Vane,
"It is a department of literature which brings the ludicrous
into sad juxtaposition with grief."
"Yes; it is too true."
"I was much pleased," said Esther, "with Washington
Irving's description of Westminster Abbey. How impressive it must be to walk through it, to look down upon the
marble forms of old heroes, stretched at full length; their
faces upturned, their hands meekly closed, as if in prayerin full armor, but the sword laid aside forever!"
"It is the most beautiful of all his sketches, I think,"
said De Vane.
"One epitaph which he mentions," said Mr. Springfield,
"is singularly affecting. It is an inscription on a family
tomb:'All the brothers were brave, and all the sisters
virtuous.'' Very fine," said De Vane.
"Far the most beautiful cemetery that I have visited,"
said Esther, " is Laurel Hill, near Philadelphia. At the entrance, carved in brown stone, stands a group which arrests
8




170                   DE VANE.
you at once: Sir Walter Scott-Old Mortality-and his
pony. It is very appropriate, and gives an air of cheerfulness to the grounds. The tombs, too, are pretty, some
of them  fine; and the Schuylkill winds silently by the
grounds, as if unwilling to disturb the repose of the place."
"It made the same impression on me," said Mrs. Springfield.
"I have never seen it, but I must do so," said De Vane.
" Your description is a charming one."
" What do you think, Mr. De Vane," asked Mr. Springfield, "of the manner of disposing of the dead by some of
the ancients-burning the bodies?"
" It has something to recommend it. It takes away the
dreadful idea of slow decay, and enables the surviving
friends to preserve the precious ashes in an urn, which may
at all times be visited with satisfaction. But it must be
appalling to see the remains of one dear to us suddenly
and utterly consumed."
"Oh! yes," said Esther; "dust to dust, as in our Christian mode of interment, is the most consolatory mode, after
all, of putting out of sight those we love."
" Do you remember," said De Vane, addressing himself
to her, "the scene described in regard to the remains of
Shelley? He was drowned in the Bay of Spezzia, having
set sail in his boat from Leghorn, where he had been to
make a visit: a storm came on, and all on board perished.
When the remains were found, it was decided to burn
them; and the act was performed in accordance with what
it may be supposed would have been the poet's wishes.
Frankincense and wine, and other classical materials for
burning, were used; and the flame arising from the pile
was observed to be of extraordinary beauty. Lord Byron
was present."
"Poor Shelley!" said Esther, " his life, death, and every
thing seemed to be in harmony with nothing but the




DE VANE.                    171
ideal. But his friends were sensible enough to take his
ashes, and deposit them in the Protestant burial-ground
at Rome."
"What a thrilling description," said De Vane, "Virgil
gives of the death of Dido! She mounts the pile, made
of objects dear to her by association, and yet filling her
with anguish, and stabs herself before the flames are kindled, which are to mingle the ashes of the cherished memorials with her own. 1Eneas, looking back from the sea,
beheld the walls glowing with the flame from the funeral
pile of the unhappy queen, whom his desertion had filled
with despair."
" What a picture!" said Esther. "She acted under the
impulse of womanly passion, without the principles of a
pure faith to guide her, or its consoling truths to sustain
her."
" To me," said Mr. Springfield, "nothing in connection
with burying the dead is more impressive and touching
than the conduct of Abraham in purchasing the cave of
Machpelah, for the last resting-place of Sarah."
"It is," said Mrs. Springfield, " exquisitely beautiful.
The noble bearing of the patriarch, grand even in his grief,
and with too profound a respect for the memory of his
wife, to accept a burial-place for her as a gift."
"Wonderfully fine!" said De Vane, " and it is to be observed how much importance the Hebrews, from the earliest time, attached to the spots where their remains should
rest. I was impressed with this, in reading, some time
since, the account of the death of Joseph. So deep was
his sentiment in regard to it, that he took an oath of his
brethren, that they would take his bones with them, when
they went up to the land of promise."
"All the early nations," said Mr. Springfield, " had that
sentiment, so far as we are able to learn any thing respecting them. The pyramids are tombs, undoubtedly."




172                   DE VANE.
"Speaking of the Egyptians," said De Vane, "reminds
me of their mode of preserving the bodies of their dead,
which I must say is to me hideous."
"I entirely agree with you," said Esther, "and I like
vaults as little. The earth-the fresh, dear, mother earth
-is the true place where the weary should lie down to
rest."
"But you do not object to tombs?" said Mr. Springfield.
"No; but they must be light and graceful to please
me. At least, the green grass and the wild flowers must
spring and encircle the marble, and mark the outlines of
the grave."
"Except in the cases of great men," said De Vane;
"then I think that grandeur should be the prevailing effect
in the tomb."
"I should make no exceptions," said Esther. "Death
parts us from the great world, with its pomp and grandeur; and while I should, of course, mark the spot where
an eminent man sleeps, by some appropriate monument, I
would surround it too with those simple things, such as
flowers, which appeal to the common sentiment of humanity, a love of the beautiful, and a clinging to nature."
"But would you not break the impression, and mar the
effect, in that way? The lofty column is to express the
grand, the heroic; and if you associate with it objects of
simple beauty, you lessen the veneration which the structure is intended to raise in the breast. For instance, the
tomb of Themistocles, at Athens, overlooking the sea,
where his genius achieved its noblest triumphs, would be
less impressive if the grass encircled it, or flowers entwined it."
"The artistic effect might be less," said Esther, "though
I am not sure of that. A contrast might be produced
which would serve to heighten the aspect of grandeur; but




DE VANE.                     173
I would sacrifice something of that to a still higher effeet: the teaching that in death the purest sentiments of
humanity are shared by the great and the lowly-the
fondness for nature, and the love of the beautiful."
" Then you prefer rural graveyards to the finest cemeteries?"
"Yes; but I would intermingle the objects of nature
with the works of art. This is done at Laurel Hill, and
will, I think, be carried out more perfectly as our country
grows older."
" I certainly hope," said Mr. Springfield, " that every
thing will be done, that can be, to cultivate the taste of
our people for the beautiful. We are in great danger of
becoming too practical, and I confess my horror of the
utilitarian philosophy. It is pleasing to see the dead cared
for; and it must be a generous sentiment which strives to
perpetuate the memory of the departed, who can no longer serve us. And even if the display which we sometimes
witness in elaborate tombs be intended as an atonement
for neglect to the person while living, still it ought to be
encouraged."
" Speaking of country churchyards," said Mrs. Springfield, " I think that some of the most touching testimonials
of affection for the departed, are to be found in them.
The green sod, carefully kept, and the ever-springing flowers, are simple but beautiful tributes."
"And the impression which such a spot makes upon a
person of refinement and sensibility," said Esther, "is
shown in Gray's Elegy. That poem alone has made him
immortal."
" And ought to do so," said De Vane. " The sentiments
are as noble as they are exquisitely expressed."'"I am very impatient myself," said Mr. Springfield,
"of any thing which perpetuates the aristocratic distinc



174                        DE VANE.
tions of life beyond the grave, and I share Mrs. Springfield's preference for rural burying-places."
" It is a sentiment," said De Vane, "which every generous nature must sympathize with; and the poetry of all
ages shows this.  Shakespeare comprehended the superiority of natural adornments for the resting-places of the
beautiful, the good, and the innocent.  Laertes says of
Ophelia:' Lay her i' the earth;
And from her fair and unpolluted flesh
May violets spring!'"
" I well remember it," said Esther; " and the queen says,
as she scatters flowers in the grave:' Sweets to the sweet: Farewell!'"
" Poor Hamlet!" said De Vane, "he could only exclaim:'I loved Qphelia: forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum.'
His love was too.intense even for the tribute of flowers!"
"It is often so  in deep  grief," said  Mrs. Springfield.
" But when the grief is somewhat softened, then we come
with our offerings.  Then we plant the sweetest flowers,
and re-visit the spot from time to time, to train them."
" One of the most perfect odes in the language," said De
Vane, "is, by some law of association which I do not exactly comprehend, recalled  to my memory by your remark; it is by Collins. He pays a tribute to the brave,
sinking to rest amidst the blessings of their country-they
sleep-and he says:'When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,
Returns to deck their hallowed mould,
She there shall dress a sweeter sod
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod.'"




DE VANE.                     175
"It is perfect," said Esther, with enthusiasm. " Nothing
of the kind can be finer. The dewy fingers of Springcold-returning as if her sole mission were to dress the sod
under which the brave sleep. Ah! Mr. De Vane, after all,
my aunt's country churchyards do seem very sweet resting-places."
"Yes," said De Vane, "nature triumphs over art; and
however we may be attracted by the artificial in health and
prosperity, our tastes must become purer as we feel the
hand of the destroyer upon us, or experience any great
calamity."
"And yet," said Mr. Springfield, " Lord Nelson exclaimed, upon going into his last battle, I believe:'Victory or
Westminster Abbey!'"
"Yes," said De Vane, "he was in health, and felt the
excitement that a brave man feels when going into battle.
His ambition blazed with all its intenseness. But when he
received his wound, which he felt to be mortal, his tender
sensibilities triumphed, his affections asserted their sway,
and he spent his last hours in making some provision for
the woman whom he loved."
Esther's face glowed with interest. The extreme beauty
and felicity of the criticism which De Vane uttered, she
saw clearly, and, turning to Mr. Springfield, she said:
"I think Mr. De Vane is right."' If you both take part against me," said he playfully,
"I must consider myself vanquished; but instead of surrendering to either of you young people, I shall lay my
arms down at the feet of my wife, for I believe she first
suggested 4he superiority of country churchyards, while
you were both disposed to have them a good deal embellished by art."
"Very gallantly done," said Esther. " My aunt deserves
the' trophies."
"I shall use my authority, then," said Mrs. Springfield,




176                    DE VANE.
"if a triumph is decreed me, to invite you all into the
library, where we shall find it more agreeable, perhaps,
than here."
She rose from the table, and they all followed her.
There was an indescribable charm about this house. A
refined taste presided over all its arrangements, and De
Vane never visited it without feeling refreshed, as one does
upon quitting the dusty plain to walk in the midst of gardens.
He sat for an hour longer, conversing with Mr. Springfield upon subjects of public interest-for both were observers of the actual, living world, much as they loved
books; while Mrs. Springfield and Esther employed themselves with some light embroidery-work, of a pattern just
introduced from Germany, and occasionally took part in
the conversation.
Happy hours! Time glides by without reminding us
of his flight. Happy homes! where the duties of life are
not overlooked, and where the heart and the intellect are
both improved; where taste presides, and all that is good
in our nature is cheered and invigorated; where books,
and music, and cheerful conversation close the day,"and
give to each passing evening the tribute of genial natures.




CHAPTER XVII.
"THANKS, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wroughtThus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought!"
LONGFELLOW.
THE summer vacation of the College was drawing near.
The annual examination of the classes was about to commence, and the unusual increase in the number of the students induced the Trustees to think of adding another
member to the Faculty.  Hitherto no very marked attention had been bestowed upon studies which had a theological tendency. It is true moral philosophy had been taught,
and well taught, and natural theology had not. been overlooked; but no decided training was given to those inquiries after revealed truth which every one who comprehends the claims of Christianity to any extent must feel to
be so transcendently important.  The religious sentiment
of the State began to look into this subject, and to inquire
into the reasonableness of bestowing more attention upon
studies which should in all Christian states be recognized
as of the highest importance. And while it was not desired that a strictly theological school should be opened in
the College, such as would fit young men for the ministry,
yet it was insisted that every young man who came to that
seat of learning, now so renowned for its scholarship, should
be instructed in that department of knowledge which it
8*                (177)




178                    DE VANE.
became every gentleman to understand as a part even of
polite education. The great argument, so long urged,
that it was best not to make religious instruction a part of
education, because it might give a bias to the mind of the
student in favor of some particular creed, had been exploded; and it was said, in reply, that the soul was like the
earth-if no cultivation were bestowed upon it, no seed
planted which might yield good fruit, it would surely send
up noxious weeds and poisonous berries. In support of
this view, the great name of Lord Brougham was quoted.
That nobleman, statesman, and scholar had written power.
fully in support of strengthening the bonds of society by a
wider diffusion of knowledge, and he argued in favor of
spreading along with the elements of science the elements
of moral truth, as eminently conservative. Happily for
England, the argument prevailed there, and the prosperity
of the empire is largely indebted to this system.  The
mind of England is instructed in divine truth, and the
heart of England is filled with Christian sentiment. Her
cross of St. George not only is emblazoned on her victorious standards, but her rulers learn to respect the authority
of the Supreme Ruler. She proclaims' her trust in God
everywhere-it is the national -sentiment.  Walking in
the streets of London, in the very midst of the busiest mart
of commerce on the globe, one reads, with a glow of admiration, upon the fagade of the. new Exchange the words:
"The Earth is the Lord's,
And the fullness thereof."
This is a part of public education, and the lesson is not
lost upon the people. Proud Empire! wherever thy flag
floats, Protestant Christianity goes with it.
Happily for this country, the same sentiment is in the
hearts of many of the people; and in those States where
simple and evangelical truth is best known, there the prin



DE VANE.                    179
ciples of free government are best understood and the or.
ganization of society is least disturbed. We do not desire
to see in this country an Established Church, but we do
wish to see CHRISTIANITY recognized as the basis of our
institutions.  Happy is that people whose God is the
Lord!
Appreciating this sentiment, the Trustees, at their next
session, provided a chair for a Professor of Sacred' Literature, whose duty it should be to teach Biblical learning
and the Evidences of Christianity.
Waring was young, but he was well known to the Faculty and the Trustees, and he was unanimously elected to
the new chair. He conferred with De Vane in regard
to it.
" It was my wish," said he,'" to pursue my studies without interruption, and to fit myself for the work of the ministry as rapidly as possible-I mean the regular itinerant
work; but I confess the offer of this place does draw me
powerfully. It will enable me to carry out some of my
plans sooner than I could otherwise do it-that is, to travel
in Europe and the East."
" Do not hesitate a moment," said De Vane; " it is the
very place for you. Of course I have too much respect for
the sacred office, and too much regard for you, to venture
to obtrude any counsel upon you in reference to such a
question; but if you will allow me to say what I really
do think, without attributing to me presumption, I will
do so."
" My dear De Vane, you are at liberty to speak to me
freely upon any subject, and I shall be glad to hear your
views."
"Then, Waring, I think that the new Chair is the place
for you. I am not prepared to judge of the field of usefulness which the traveling ministry opens; but with my
knowledge of you, I do not hesitate to say that the College




180                    DE VANE.
will afford you a theatre for the exercise of your highest
qualities. There are many who can instruct the people,
but fitness for such a place as the Trustees have just now
originated is rare indeed. And if anywhere the great
principles of truth ought to be taught well, it is certainly
in those places where young men are trained for life."
"The traveling ministry requires very high qualifica
tions," said Waring, "far higher than I can lay claim to.
A preacher in that wide field meets persons of all classesthe high and the low, the rich and the poor, the learned
and the unlearned-and hoe ought to be able to meet the
wants of all. You, of course, remember Mr. Springfield's
description of St. Paul, his discourse on Mars' Hill, at
Athens? That will give you some idea of what an itiner.
ant preacher has sometimes to encounter. Such a work
demands a Wesley, a Whitefield, an Asbury, when its largest requirements are met."
" You must not understand me to underrate the work of
a traveling minister-far from it; but the ordeal of a life
in a college is a very severe one. The learning,-the winning manners, the dignity, the firmness, the nameless
qualities which constitute a gentleman, and which no
mere scholarship can confer-these I know you to possess,
Waring, and you must not withhold them from our College."
"I'm very much obliged to you," said Waring, smiling;
"and I am, of course, gratified to witness your interest in
the success of the new chair."
"Oh!" said De Vane, laughing, "you know my taste for
such studies; and if I do take a wider range in my researches than you think exactly safe, still I wish to see
the place well filled, and I love the College."
"I must think of it," said Waring, "and confer with
Mr. Springfield about it."
"I'm sure that he will agree with me," said De Vane.




DE VANE.                   181
"Then, Waring, we shall have you here en permanence,
and that, I think, would settle the question as to my
making itmy home."
"That would be very agreeable to me. We both like
the place, and I do not know that we could find one in all
the world that has more attractions."
"It is full of them. Cultivated people abound here;
the society is remarked for its refinement; and every win-'
ter brings us the first men of the State, who come here
either as members of the Legislature, or to attend its session."
"Well, let us take our walk," said Waring.
They walked in the direction of the river, and in their
way passed the shop of the blacksmith, whose ringing
blows upon the anvil saluted the young gentlemen as they
drew near.
"There is your friend hard at work, De Vane. He is an
industrious fellow."
"Yes, and something of a philosopher in his way."
"How are you, Mr. Hobbs?" said De Vane, stopping in
front of his door. The sparks flew as the blacksmith
brought down his heavy hammer upon a piece of glowing
iron which he had just taken from the forge.
"Pretty well, thank you, sir," said he. "How d'ye do
yourself?"
"Always hard at work, it seems to me. You never
rest, do you?"
" Of nights, and Sundays," said the blacksmith, shaping
his iron.with quick strokes. "Life's short, you know, sir,
and there's a heap of work to do."
"Yes, but what time do you take to read?" asked De
Vane.
"Why, you see, sir," the blows falling thick and heavy
upon the piece of iron, which now began to take the shape
of a horse-shoe, "these days are pretty long, and that nig



182                   DE VANE.
ger-boy who works with me ought to have a chance to
rest in the middle of the day; so I bring a book with
me, and my dinner, too, and so I get about an hour. Then,
at home, about another hour after supper, and of Sundays, all day."
"What are you reading now?" asked De Vane.
He gave a few more sharp, quick strokes with his hammer, cut off the shoe from the bar of iron, and plunging it
into the ftrnace again, wiped his face with a towel that
hung near, and, stepping to a shelf, took down a book and
brought it to De Vane. It was an illustrated copy of
Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress.
"There," said he, "there's a book that my wife's been
reading, and she asked me to read it. I've got nearly half
through, and it's an uncommon book."
Waring smiled, and said: "Do you find it interesting?"
"Oh! yes, sir-interesting enough. It's as good as a
book of travels."
" The journey that the Pilgrim is making," said Waring,' is a very important one."
"Yes," said the blacksmith, "and he's a brave fellow.
I think he'll get through. He's not afraid of the devil
himself."
De Vane was a little uneasy. He feared the blacksmith
might become too animated in his descriptions. Waring
managed him very well.
"You observe, however," said Waring, "that he wore
good armor, and had a good sword."
"Oh! yes," said the blacksmith, " he had that all right.
That was a desperate fight he had with that fellow Apollyon. I thought, when he straddled out over the whole
road, that Christian was in a bad way; and so he would
have been, if he had backed at all. But when I saw him
draw his sword, I knew he had pluck in him, and I felt




DE VANE.                   183
sure that he'd do to depend on; and, sure enough, he gave
the fellow thunder."
Waring smiled, and De Vane laughed heartily; but the
blacksmith was too deeply interested to observe the effect
produced by his remark.
"You observe," said Waring, "that Christian was a
man of courage. That's very true, but do you know what
gave him courage?"
"I suppose he was naturally a man of grit," said the
blacksmith.
"Not only so," said Waring, "but he believed that
there was One much greater than himself, who was able
to protect him if he kept on his way; and you know, too,
that he was going to the city where his great Friend
dwelt."
" Oh! yes," said the blacksmith, " it helps a man mightily
to know that he's on the right road and well backed; but
the man must have the real stuff in him to fight against
heavy odds."
"When you have finished the book, Mr. Hobbs," said
Waring, "I should like to talk with you further about it."
"Very well, sir; I'd like to see you.  My wife asked me
to read the book. Miss Wordsworth gave it to my little
girl last Christmas; and my wife is a member of the same
church with that young lady. She says the book's interesting, and I think so too. She'll read any thing that
Mrs. Springfield or Miss Wordsworth asks her to read;
for she believes in'em."
"Well, Mir. Hobbs," said De Vane, "I shall send my
horse round to have that right shoe behind rasped. He
cuts his ankle."
"Yes, sir, do. The infernal rascal won't stand still long
enough to let me fit his shoes; but I'll put it right. He's
a fine horse, but he's got the spirit of -"
" Well, never mind," said De Vane, quickly. "You'll




184                   DE VANE.
rasp the shoe a little on the inside. Don't take the
trouble to change it. Good evening."
"Good by, gentlemen," said the blacksmith, walking
up to his furnace, and grasping his iron bar.
The young gentlemen, as they walked on, soon heard
his ringing strokes once more.
"The blacksmith is a character," said Waring. "His
industry sets an example worth following."
" Yes," said De Vane, "there is to me a charm in such
a scene-a stalwart fellow, shaping iron with lusty strokes,
and full of' independence and cheerfulness. I sometimes
call at his shop to talk with him."
" I see that he is a friend of yours. His running remarks upon the Pilgrim interested me. They are pert and
natural. The idea that Christian would have been overcome if he had backed, was capital; and his opinion that
it helped a man to feel that he was well backed had pith
in it."
" I should like to hear him review the whole book when
he has finished it," said De Vane; "it would be far more
entertaining than many lectures that we hear."
" I feel a strong sympathy with such men," said Waring.
" What a respect the man has for his wife! She is a genuine Christiag, and Hobbs knows it; and it is beautiful to
see the ascendency which a pious woman acquires over
such a man; strong, courageous, manly, honest, and yielding meekly to the admonitions of a mild woman. O De
Vane! I wish the Christian world saw this more clearly.
There would be far more toleration for unconverted men
of high qualities than we witness now.  With all the
faults of that sturdy smith, and with his proneness to
swear, yet I feel a respect for him. He is respectful to his
wife, tender to his children, and would fight for any cause
that he thought good."
"Yes, there is nothing of meanness in him. His heart is




DE VANE.                     185
large, and he is fond of books, which gives me a fellowfeeling for him, rough as he is."
"Such men almost certainly come under religious influence. Their very frankness disposes them to receive
great truths with favor."
"I find myself benefited," said De Vane, "by my visits
to his shop. T'le energy with which he brings down his
hammer is positively exhilarating, and the perseverance
with which he takes up a rough piece of iron, and shapes
it into some implement for agriculture, or a shoe for the
foot of a horse, never fails to teach me a lesson. I go from
him with firmer resolve to shape the affairs of life with
vigor, and I find myself roused to new ardor and activity.
The truth is, I have a sincere respect for a laboring man:
he is the pioneer of civilization; his strong arm and honest
heart are powerful in forming society, and building up a
state."
"Yes," said Waring, "a thousand times greater respect
than for idlers and drones, who, because they have the
means of living without labor, fancy that the exemption
from toil constitutes them gentlemen.'
" Gentlemen," said De Vane, "must possess the quality
that Cicero says is essential to an orator. You, of course,
remember his remark, that no one but a good man could
be an eloquent one, upon the principle that he must rouse
the higher qualities of our nature, if he would move us by
his oratory; and while I regard the social distinctions ot
life as of very great importance, yet I am quite ready to
admit that you may find gentlemen in all classes.  It
would be a great calamity if it were not so. One who is
honest, has self-respect, and is considerate of the feelings
of others, is a gentleman, no matter where you find him."
"I never heard a better definition anywhere, De Vane.
I approve it heartily.  Cicero's definition is not so felicitous, though he may have intended to embrace some



186                    DE VANE.
thing more than to live honestly, or rather honorably, by
his phrase."
"As to what the world calls honor, it is wholly unreliable'; it is artificial and heartless. The code is frigid, and
some of the worst men on earth profess the greatest regard
for it."
"I thoroughly agree with you," said Waring.  "I could
point to one or two such instances. A gentleman is a
gentleman always, with the code or without it. The code
of honor restrains some men undoubtedly, who would act
much more mischievously without it than they are allowed
to do in view of its penalties; but a gentleman is a true
man, whose real refinement and nobleness no code can
express."
"Yes, the quality that makes a gentleman belongs to
the inner man," said De Vane. "A  gentleman always
yields the best room to a lady at an inn; gives her the
most comfortable okair.; sees that she has access to the fire;
considers her feelings, by saying and doing nothing which
can offend her sensibility; spares a poor man every mortification, and treats a little child with kindness. A gentleman spares the weak and confronts the strong.. Ie governs his life by the proud maxim of the great empire:' Parcere subjectis, et debellare superbos."'
"In short," said Waring, "he has very thoroughly
studied the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the
Corinthians."
" Waring," said De Vane, "here we are upon the riverbank.  Just here we met Mr. Springfield first, y'ou remember."
"I very well remember it," said Waring.  " It seems
but a short time, and yet it has been months. Let us make
them a visit this evening; the sooner I advise with Mr




DE VANE.                     187
Springfield in regard to my affairs, the better; for I must
decide promptly."
" I am quite at your service," said De Vane.
They retraced their stells to Mrs. Bowen's, and after tea
they made their visit to Mr. Springfield's.
The moment they entered the house, Mrs. Springfield
came forward, and said with animation:
"MIr. Waring, I congratulate you. We are all very
happy to learn that you are to take the new chair in the
College."
"I came to talk over that matter. Is it already settled?"
" Definitively and irreversibly. Mr. Springfield, Esther,
and I, all say so. Are we not right, Mr. De Vane?"
" Perfectly so, madam," said De Vane. "I do not see
that Mr. Waring can hesitate about it. We have gone
over the ground together already, but he reserved his
decision until he could hear Mr. Springfield's views."
" He will join us in a few moments; he accompanied
Esther to make a call, at the hotel, On some friends of ours
from Georgia, who are on their way to the North, to pass
the summer at some of the watering-places. They will soon
be in."
"And you think, Mrs. Springfield, that I ought to accept
the professorship?"
" I have not the shadow of a doubt about it. If I had
been called on to arrange a plan of life for you, I could not
have more satisfactorily accomplished it.  There is every
thing to recommend it. You will make your influence
felt in the best way, and your tastes will be gratified without any sacrifice of your sense of duty."
" That is just the point," said Waring, c where I am not
clear. The place would be so agreeable to my tastes, that
I can hardly feel, in deciding to accept it, that I am not
yielding to my inclinations, and shrinking from the rougher
path of duty."




188                   DE VANE.
" Mr. Waring, you know my interest in the great work.
I wish to see it prosper; but I assure you that the want
of our Church at this time is men who can influence sentiment in the higher circles of life."
Waring was silent for a minute or two. The view just
presented had not been overlooked by him, but he feared
that, in entertaining it, he was encouraging his own wishes.
Now that it was brought before him so directly, and by
one so much esteemed by him as Mrs. Springfield, he felt
it in all its force. Who has not found himself guided
aright by some woman of sense and character, in a moment
of doubt or hesitation? There is an unspeakable satisfaction in the counsels of a true woman. The heart is loyal,
the perceptions clear, the mode of presenting truth captivating; and he'who has for a friend such a woman, may
safely trust her when the strength of men would fail, and
the wisdom of men would be at fault. 0 woman! loyal,
noble, courageous, generous woman! may we never want
thy words of sympathy to cheer, nor thy counsels, unselfish and true, to guide us!
At this moment Mr. Springfield and Estler came in,
and they both tendered their congratulations to Waring.
Esther seated herself without removing her hat, and was
very animated.
" So, then," said Waring, "you all say that I must
accept?"
" There ought not to be the slightest hesitation," said
Mr. Springfield.'The subject is not new to me; I have
long considered it. In my judgment, the traveling ministry is very important; the beneficent results of the system
can not be overrated: but there are other departments of
the service, where certain qualifications are demanded,
that can not be readily supplied. To suppose that no one
can labor properly or effectively but in the itinerant work, is
so extravagant, that it is not worth our while to consider




DE VANE.                   189
the question in that light. To say so, would at once ignore
the usefulness of the ministry of every Church but our own;
and neither you nor I can consent to do that."
" Of course not," said Waring.
"Besides this," continued Mr. Springfield, "the Methodists of this country ought not to limit their aims to a
mere control of the popular mind. Our doctrines are incontestably sound. We must bring the higher classes under
their influence: the cultivated, the learned-these we must
deal with. We already number in our ranks such persons,
as you very well know; but it is not to be denied, that our
access to that class is difficult. Our influence over persons of taste and refinement must be increased, otherwise
our children will depart from us; and as society becomes
matured, other churches will take the control of the learned
and cultivated classes, leaving us to perform the task of
pioneers."
"Certainly," said Waring; " the Methodists of England
are acting upon your views, and their influence is spreading
over the higher classes."
" You are quite right, and it ought to be so. Methodism
was born in the first university in the world-Oxford.
It was patronized then by Lady Betty Hastings; and her
sister, Lady Margaret, married one of the Methodists who
accompanied Mr. Wesley to Georgia. Her sister-in-law,
the Countess of Huntingdon, after experiencing the power
of the doctrine taught by them, became the friend of
Whitefield, and cooperated with the Methodists, throughout her long life, in the most marked and energetic way.
In her Chelsea mansion, near London, where the most aristocratic and fashionable circles were habitually met, she
established a place for preaching; and it is a remarkable
fact, that when Whitefield preached there, the first people
of the realm assembled to hear him. Chesterfield heard
him there, and invited him to his chapel at Bratby Hall.




190                   DE VANE.
His wife, and her sister, the Countess Delitz, both accepted
the faith as taught by him, and died in it. Horace Walpole, Hume, Bolingbroke, and others, heard with admiration the eloquent evangelist; and Lord St. John, a brother
of Lord Bolingbroke, became a convert to the doctrine
which he preached, and died in the hope of the Gospel.
A prayer-meeting was established in London by ladies of
the highest rank. The Marchioness of Lothian, in declining health, the Countess of Leven, Lady Balgown, Lady
Francis Gardiner, Lady Jane Mindard, and Lady MIary
Hamilton, formed a part of the company, the meetings
being held alternately at their houses; and they were
continued for years.
"Subsequently, in the most aristocratic quarter of Lon,
don, the meeting was conducted by the Countess of North
cote and Hopetown, the daughters of Lord Leven, the
Countess of Buchan, Lady Maxwell, Lady Glenachy, Wilhelmina, Countess of Leven, with her sisters, Lady Ruthyen and Lady Bauff, Lady Henrietta Hope, and Sophia,
Countess of Haddington. It was but a day or two since,
in looking into some strictures upon Methodism, in the
Edinburgh Review, I was induced to take up the Life and
Times of Lady Huntingdon, by a member of the HIouse of
Shirley and Hastings, where I find the account given at
length. By the way, it is a book which will interest you
greatly. It was sent to me from Philadelphia, and is at
your service."
" I shall read it with great interest," said Waring. " The
notices which I have seen of it have interested me. It is
believed that if political troubles had not driven Lord
Bolingbroke to the Continent, he would have yielded to
the power of evangelical religion. It is unquestionably
important that our seats of learning should be made acquainted with it, and I did not at all underrate the importance of the place which is offered me; but really, it was




DE VANE.                   191
so tempting, that I felt some distrust of my own judgment."
"But now," said Esther, "you will accept it?"
" I do not see," said he, "how I can do otherwise. It is
only too pleasing to me to do so; that makes me doubt
its being my duty."
"The path of duty," said Mr. Springfield, "is not
always rugged."
De Vane had been an attentive listener to the conversation, and his respect for Mr. Springfield and for Waring
was heightened by all that he heard. Both were earnest,
both took the largest view of the question, both divested
it of its personal relations, both decided in reference to
considerations which even the great Task-Master might
see without disapproval. The question was now settled.
Waring was to take the new Chair in the College.




CHAPTER XVIII.
"SOME woes are hard to bear.
Who knows the past? and who can judge us right?"
ROBERT BULWER LYTTON..
SOME clays after Waring's interview with Mr. Springfield, having fully made up his mind to accept the Professorship to which he had been elected by the Trustees
of the College, he called on Mr. Clarendon to thank him
for his kindness in having brought about that result; for
that gentleman, being a member of the Board, and knowing the preeminent qualifications of his young friend for
the task, had brought him forward in such a way as to
concentrate the entire vote upon him.
" You owe me nothing, Mr. Waring," said Mr. Clarendon.
"I love the College. I came to it, from Virginia, a young,
ardent man. My heart expanded in the College, my mind
grew and strengthened there, and I am  zealous for its
honor and success. I was not willing to see our new Chair
filled by a mere professional teacher of religious doctrine.
I wished something higher. I knew well your qualifications, your sincerity as a Christian, your thorough scholarship, and your character as a gentleman. I beg you to
consider me your friend, sir, and; at the same time, a friend
to the College."
Waring was deeply impressed with the frankness and
generosity of this speech. He said:
"I can only assure you, Mr. Clarendon, of my wish to
serve the College faithfully, so that I may do my duty,
(192)




DE VANE.                   193
and continue to enjoy your friendship and confidence,
which I have long prized."
Mr. Clarendon gave him his hand, made him a stately
bow, and asked him to take a seat-they were standing
in the library. It was early evening, and the windows
being thrown open, the western sky was in full view. The
horizon was yet glowing, and the western breeze came
freshly through the shrubbery, which had not yet lost its
sweetness. Pedestrians were enjoying the fine, fresh air,
and carriages rolled through the handsome streets, filled
with ladies without their hats. The capital wore its brightest summer aspect. The two gentlemen were in conversation, when Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin drove up
in a light, open carriage, and without alighting from it,
sent the footman to ask if Mrs. Clarendon would join them
in their drive. Mr. Clarendon walked to the carriage to
answer the invitation, stating that MIrs. Clarendon had
gone, but a little while before, to drive with her sister,
Mrs. Hallam.
" Will you not, ladies," said he, "come in, and await her
return?"
" Oh! no," said Miss Godolphin, " we must continue our
drive; and I think, Mr. Clarendon, that you had better
join us."
"With all my heart," said he gayly, "provided you will
permit me to bring a young gentleman with me. A proper
man, I assure you."
"It will only increase our pleasure," she said.
"Then we shall join you in a moment."  And returning
to the house for Waring, they advanced to the carriage.
"Allow me, ladies," said Mr. Clarendon, "to present to
you Professor Waring, of the College which you see just
over the way there. You have known him as a gay young
gentleman, a haird student, and a first-honor man. Yeu
are now to respect him as a grave Professor.
0




194                   DE VANE.
The ladies smiled, and bowled to Waring, as if much impressed with his new dignity; and the gentlemen took
their seats in the carriage.
" So you accept the chair, Mr. Waring?" said Miss Godolphin.
Waring bowed.
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "we gave him no chance
to decline. The Board elected him and forthwith adjourned, appealing to his well-known love for the College, to
induce him to accept."'" We are very much pleased," said Mrs. Habersham,
" to learn that Mr. Waring is to be with us. I feel quite
an interest in securing such acquisitions for our society."
"Nothing," said Waring, "could be more agreeable to
me, than such an arrangement. I love the College, and I
love the town."
"And of course the people in it," said Mr. Clarendon.
"Of course," replied Waring, " and the people in it. I
should be very ungrateful if I could be indifferent to
them."
" Where is your friend Mr. De Vane, Mr. Waring?" inquired Miss Godolphin. "We were wishing to meet you
both."
"It is impossible, to say," replied Waring, "where Mr.
De Vane is to be found at this moment. He had walked
out when I called for him some two hours since, and it
may be that this fine evening has tempted him to seek
recreation in the public garden after a day's study."
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, " I'll venture to say that he
is about this time holding a professional conversation with
his friend Swan, about the cedars of Lebanon, or the hyssop on the wall, or some new plant just introduced into the
public garden. Swan thinks him a prodigy, and has no
idea that King Solomon was at all better instructed in any
department of knowledge than De Vane."




DE VANE.                   195
The ladies laughed, and Mrs. Habersham instructed the
coachman to drive to the garden.
"Our object at this time in seeking Mr. De Vane, is to
invite him to join us to-morrow evening. To-day we were
quite surprised at receiving the card of Mille. Vesperini,
a celebrated cantatrice whom we met abroad. She is here
but for a day or two, and we wish some of our friends to
enjoy the pleasure of meeting one who may be called the
queen of song."
Mr. Clarendon and Mr. Waring expressed their gratification.
The carriage was approaching the garden.  It was
thronged with visitors. Gay groups were seated and engaged in animated conversation. Others filled the broad
walks. As the carriage drew uI opposite one of the principal gates, De Vane and Miss Wordsworth emerged from
it, and observing the party who had just arrived, they approached them.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon gayly.  "Mr. De
Vane, like your great progenitor, you have just quitted
the garden abounding with delights.  Not expelled, I
trust! But at least, like him, you have an angel to walk
Iy your side."
Esther blushed deeply.
"Yes," replied De Vane, "with such a guide, I am
content to explore the great world."
"We are fortunate in meeting you, Mr. De Vane," said
Miss Godolphin, " and to find you, too, with Miss Wordsworth. We called at Mr. Springfield's for her, as we set
out to drive."
Esther expressed her regret at not having been at home
to receive the ladies.
" Not at all," replied Miss Godolphin; " it is far better
as it is. We are to receive, to-morrow evening, Mlle. Vesperini, a celebrated cantatrice, \and I lay my commands




196                   DE VANE.
on you) Mr. De Vane, to escort Mliss Wordsworth. You
are both indispensable, and you must come together."
De Vane bowed, and said that with Miss Wordsworth's
permission, he would undertake to execute Miss Godolphin's command. Esther expressed her approval of the
arrangement, and the carriage dashed on.
"How fortunate," exclaimed Miss Godolphin, "I met
the very persons I most wished to see! They will enjoy
Mlle. Vesperini's singing."
" There are no two persons," said Mr. Clarendon, " who
will appreciate it more."
"Do you know, Mr. Clarendon, that I think musical
people deserve the highest honors? In Europe, especially
on the Continent, they take rank with the nobility. They
are guests of princes. People of the highest rank receive
them into their houses as friends. It is the homage that
wealth and rank pay to genius."
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "when in Europe, I often
observed it. In Ireland, I met at the house of Mrs. Grant,
of Laggan, a young Irish lady of extraordinary accomplishments. She was fascinating, and her singing was
unrivaled. On the Continent, too, I more than once met
families from Ireland, and the ladies were in every instance superior."
"This lady is very young-certainly not yet twentyfive," said Miss Godolphin; "and she is attended by an
uncle-a man of good fortune, who glories in the celebrity
of his young relative. He was with her when I met her
in Paris."
"In that respect," said Mr. Clarendon, "the taste, or
rather the conventionalism of Europe differs widely from
our own. Persons of position and wealth suffer their relatives to enter public life in a way which we should utterly condemn. Their love for the fine arts is such, that it
gives art an elevated rank. Mrs. Siddons was not only




DE VANE.                    197
received everywhere, but she was sought, and sought
eagerly, in the most aristocratic circles. And even when
the stage proper is condemned, that is, the theatre, persons
of genius are encouraged to appear in public as artistes, in
song, in recitation, or in reading."
"I think well of it," said Miiss Godolphin. "Genius
should always be tributary to the advancement of society."
" There is a great deal of stiffness in this country," said
Mr. Clarendon, "and the avenues to distinction are too
few. Politics is almost the only pursuit for our men, and
our women have none. Especially ought we in this Southern country to encourage such entertainments as Mrs.
Habersham proposes to give us. They are innocent, and
they must, while they prove entertaining, give to society
a heightened refinement. We do not encourage the stage;
indeed, we proscribe it, and I think very properly. It becomes, therefore, a high social duty, to contribute in some
other way to the development of genius and the advancement of art."
"I am delighted to hear you speak in this way," said
Miss Godolphin. " Our entertainments are generally flat,
stale, and unprofitable. What we call parties, are often
intolerable. Dancing may do for very young people, but
surely not for those who have grown to any consciousness
of what a serious affair life is. And then what have we
left?"
"Nothing but music and conversation," said Waring;
"but they are every thing."
" Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "I enjoyed myself more at
your entertainment, Mr. Clarendon, given to the Duke of
Saxe-Weimar, than any thing of the kind I have attended
in this country."
Mr. Clarendon bowed.
"I think, Miss Godolphin," he said, "that receptions




198                   DE VANE.
where guests of congenial tastes are expected to call
through the evening, and where only light refreshments
are introduced, far more rational than large entertainments,
where every thing is done upon an extravagant scale."
"Oh! and a thousand times more agreeable. In Paris,
and Brussels, and other capitals on the Continent, no other
evening entertainments are known, except occasionally a
great ball."
"The ambassadors give their dinners," said Mr. Clarendon, " to the gentlemen; and the receptions are really refreshing, for they bring together people of taste, and cultivation, and refinement; and conversation goes on in a
way perfectly charming."
" We must try to make our little capital very agreeable,
Mr. Clarendon," said Mrs. Habersham, "and next winter
I shall do what I can in that way."
The drive was a delightful one, and the carriage drawing up before Mr. Clarendon's door, he took leave of the
ladies with thanks for such an agreeable hour.
Waring accompanied them to their residence, and Mrs.
Habersham insisting that he should not walk, the carriage
took him to Mrs. Bowen's door, where he was warmly received by that good lady, who was delighted to observe
his growing intimacy with Miss Godolphin.
De Vane and Esther, after quitting the party in the carriage, walked leisurely to Mr. Springfield's.
" I-ow animated Miss Godolphin is becoming!" said De
Vane. "Waring and I passed an evening there lately,
and we found her really bright."
"I have observed it. She is very fascinating. I can
not account for the sadness which we sometimes observe
in her; but even that heightens my interest in her. When
she forgets her sorrow, she is brilliant."
" The suddenness with which she relapses into sadness,"




DE VANE.                     199
said De Vane, "is strange.  It is like a cloud suddenly
passing over the sun."
" Or a bright particular star," said Esther, "becoming
dim by some fleecy vail, which the eye can only perceive
by the lessening radiance of the orb."
"Your figure is perfect," said De Vane. " It is nothing
known to us, which can explain the fact; but it is still
a fact, that, at times, when Miss Godolphin seems brightest, she suddenly sinks into dejection.  She is a person;
too, of such intellectual strength, that it makes it the
more difficult to account for, and she is not at all capricious. Her opinions are fixed, her tastes are pure, and her
character is resolute.  There is some painful memory, probably, known only to herself, which throws its shadow
across the path of her life. She is a wonderfully interesting person, and I should be glad to see her happier than
she seems to be."
"If there be any secret sorrow," said Esther, "it must
have been caused by something that befell her in Europe.
Her history, up to the time of her going abroad, is well
known; and she was then as bright and joyous as possible, having nothing whatever to cloud her happiness but
the loss of relatives."
"It is beautiful,' said De Vane, "to see her when she is
animated.  She is magnificent, splendidly beautiful, and
full of graceful majesty.  She looks a queen."
"I have often thought so," said Esther.  "She is singularly free from  affectation, and her unstudied attitudes
have at times startled me by their classical beauty, and, I
may say, sublimity."
" The Guilfords, of Virginia," said De Vane, "were with
her in Europe. I have heard her speak of them, and when
I make my visit to that State, which I think of doing next
month, I may be able to find a solution of what is certainly a mystery."




200                    DE VANE.' You go to Virginia next month?" said Esther.
"Yes, I must make my father and aunt a visit. It has
been my purpose to do so for some months. Almost three
years have gone by since I saw them, and it is proper that
I should make them a visit which they think has been
already too long delayed."
" it is certainly proper," said Esther, " and must, I think,
make you very happy."
" t will certainly be pleasing," he said, " to revisit relatives so dear to me, and to see the spot where very early
years were passed. But I do not feel that Virginia is my
home. I do not know how it is, but this is the only place
in all the world where I would consent to live. It holds
me by a powerful attraction; and no matter where I may
be, when I quit here I shall feel that I am an exile."
He spoke with great animation, and his face beamed as
he uttered the words.
"But," said Esther, "may not a return to your Virginia
home revive the slumbering attachment to that place
which has been so dear to you?"
" No," said he, "never. I honor and love Virginia, and
cherish ancestral recollections: but here I have been for
the first time conscious of my own faculties; here I have
received the Promethean heat which wakes me to conscious manhood; here I have learned to turn upon the
world and survey it, to compare places, study society, and
know for myself what it is all worth. In my native State,
I should be involved in all the meshes of conventionalism. The very fact of residing upon an estate which has
come down to me through more than one generation, while
it conferred consideration, would commit me to all the
rules which society there recognizes as so imperious, and
I could not be myself. If I had never gone from home, it
might have been different; but it is too late now. I have
seen the world in its largest outlines. I have learned to




DE VANE.                    201
despise its little conventional ways. I would to-morrow
relinquish my claim to my estate before I would consent
to hold it and ignore my manhood."
Esther was startled by his earnestness. She had never
before seen him so roused. She did not know that he had
lately received letters from home, appealing to his ancestral pride, and urging him to return and fix his residence
in Virginia; that Mrs. Vane, after some playful criticism
upon his own letters, in which he had betrayed more
plainly than before his admiration of Esther, had warned
him against being ensnared by his Methodist friends, who
might be good people enough in their way, but who could
not, of course, be suitable to his matured tastes, or do for
intimate associates; and had at some length, and with evident seriousness, portrayed the charms of the beautiful
Clara Guilford, and hinted at the advantages which such
an alliance would yield him.
He continued: "I am not unambitious, but I trust that
the passion with me is an honest and honorable one. I
desire distinction, but it must be earned —not inherited;
earned, too, by a career of usefulness-not bought with
money, nor obtained by the mean arts which degrade so
many public men. I am satisfied that the dearth of high
qualities which we must all acknowledge, is the result of the
conventional rules of life, now becoming so strong in this
country. Vigor and manliness are disappearing. Wealth
is worshipped. The high places of the Republic are looked
to as the rewards of the abject followers of some petty
popular potentate, and the very road to the unseen world
which we are assured awaits the good, is hedged in by
aristocratic forms, which make no provision for the poor
and the outcast. I wish to be a man. I will not consent
to be dwarfed by the forms of society."
He was splendid in his enthusiasm. Esther had never
before seen him roused in this way. His very form seemed




202                   DE VANE.
to dilate with the grandeur of conscious manhood, and his
youthful, vigorous frame seemed fired by an inspiration
which it could not contain. She had never looked into the
nature of the interest which she felt in De Vane. She was
conscious of a very deep interest in him. She had never
loved, and she had never before met one who even roused
her admiration.' De Vane had never spoken to her of love,
had never even hinted it to her; but she, of course, had
seen that he sought her society, and his admiration for her
was too marked not to be observed by herself, as well as
by others. Mrs. Springfield had seen it, but had never
spoken to Esther on the subject. Comprehending her well,
she knew that it was not at all required; for while she
knew her ardor, she knew too that she possessed self-control, and would never permit herself to become too deeply
interested in any one, until she ascertained that her sense
of duty would suffer nothing from the attachment. Waring, too, had been very attentive to Esther, and she believed that her niece felt a certain interest in him. She
thought it unnecessary to speak to her about either.
Now Esther was troubled. She was really agitated by
the consciousness of her sympathy with De Vane, and she
turned her eyes upon him for a moment, lustrous with the
light of her awakened soul, and could not restrain a glance
of boundless admiration for the nobleness of the sentiments
which he uttered. He walked by her side for some moments in silence. Neither could venture to speak. De
Vane was at that moment conscious of an intenser regard
for Esther than he had ever before experienced; but he
was not prepared to speak to her of his sentiments. They
were not, indeed, sufficiently defined, and he had no present
purpose in regard to her; though, if he had analyzed his
heart, he might have found in its depths the wish to walk
by the side of the gloriously beautiful being who was with
him now, through all the paths of future life.




DE VANE.                     203
Yet he had great respect for his father. He would be
reluctant to wound even his pride, to offend his aristocratic
tastes; and to say to him that he, his son, wished to take
for a wife this young disciple of a despised sect, this daughter of a Methodist preacher, who even now resided in the
family of a lay preacher of that denomination, would, he
knew, shock him greatly. If he could see Esther first, if
he could know her worth, her splendid intellectual endowments, her accomplishments, her great soul; if he could
but be made acquainted with her, without learning in advance her religious sentiments or her connections, he was
sure that all would be well. But there was the trouble:
how could this be done? The problem troubled him. Then,
too, his aunt. Her pride of birth, her aristocratic tastes,
her earnest wish to see him lead the life of a Virginia gentleman-all this troubled him. He himself comprehended
Esther. He knew how superior she was to all others with
whom he compared her, and he despised the paltry considerations that others esteemed so weighty. He had no present purpose; he could form none. He must visit his home,
survey the ground, test his interest in Esther, before speaking to her.
That soul, which he knew had never been wakened by
the voice of human passion, must not be roused until the
voice of true and immortal love broke its pure slumber.
The star of hope must not rise in the heavens, to be obscured by mists, but must mount the skies when they were
serene and cloudless.
"I am to call for you, Miss Wordsworth, to-morrow
evening, you remember," said De Vane.
"Yes," said Esther."  "I wish to hear Mlle. Vesperini.
I have long desired it. She is said to be peerless in song."
"I share your enthusiasm," said he. "You know my
love of music; but your singing has spoiled me for that of
any other pers.on."




204                   DE VANE.' I thank you for your appreciation, but I fear that I am
indebted only Co your kindness. You are too generous to
be critical."
"I plume myself upon my taste," said he playfully;
"and nothing but something like perfection can satisfy
dme,"
They had reached Mrs. Springfield's residence, and De
Vane, declining Esther's invitation to go in, bade her good
evening, and walked away.
He found Waring seated in the piazza with Mrs. Bowen,
awaiting his return.
6 I hope you had a pleasant drive, Professor," said De
Vane.
" It could not be otherwise," replied Waring, " surrounded as I was; and I need not inquire as to your walk. If
it had not been agreeable, you would not have lingered so
long on the way."' Delightful!" said De Vane; " but have I been long?"' Mrs. Bowen has been waiting tea for you-I will not.
undertake to say how long."
" Never mind, Mr. De Vane," said the good lady, perfectly happy in the presence of her two favorites. "Mr.
Waring has just come in, and as he came in the carriage
of course he got home first."




CHAPTER XIX.
*"A BREATHLESS awe, like the swift change,
Unseen but felt, in youthful slumbers;
Wild, sweet, but uncommunicably strange,
Thou breathest now in fast-ascending numbers."
SHELLEY.
THE cloudless splendor of a summer evening favored the
musical entertainment to which Mrs. Habersham  had invited her friends.  There was a delicious coolness in the
air, peculiar to a Southern climate after the fervors of the
day have declined; and the evening breeze, fanning the
shrubbery with which the town abounded, bestowed a
fragrance which nothing but natural flowers could impart
to it. What a tribute to the senses, when sweet odors
mingle with sweet sounds! The South is the home of
both; and in every household under our brilliant skies,
flowers and music should be cultivated. Glorious land,
lying midway between the frozen north and the burning
tropics, may thy people ever encourage the industry which
covers thy fields with fruitful harvests, and the arts which
shed refinemeqit upon thy happy homes!
The parlor, which had been open to receive the guests,
was pretty well filled when De Vane and Esther arrived.
They had driven to Mrs. Habersham's, and Mr. and Mrs.
Springfield were to come at a late hour.
Miss Godolphin received them with animation, and expressed her gratification at their presence.
"I would cross the Atlantic myself," she said, "to hear
noble Vesperini."
(205)




206                    DE VANE.
"So would I," said Esther, " most gladly, if she be what
she is represented to be in the musical world."
"No description can do her justice," said Miss Godolphin. -" She has genius, soul, cultivation. One must have
all to be perfect."
Mr. Clarendon advanced, and said: "Ah! ladies, we
are to have a great treat to-night, a foreign wonder, as
Comus said, when entranced by music from some unseen
fair one; but I shall be slow to believe that you will have
to lay your garlands at her feet."
"Wait till you hear her, Mr. Clarendon," said Miss Godolphin.  "She is really a wonder; and you will be ready
to exclaim with Comus, I am quite sure:' Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould
Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?'"
" I have been ready to make that exclamation, De Vane,
about Miss Godolphin and Miss Wordsworth any time
these six months past. Yet I'm bound to believe them
mortal, when I recover myself sufficiently to reason about
it."
"Ah! Mr. Clarendon, you are very cruel," said Miss
Godolphin, " to turn your satire upon us in this way. Is
he not, Miss Wordsworth?"
"Satire!" said he. "Upon my soul, I was never more
sincere in all my life. De Vane, have you. not heard me
often say something very like this?"
"Something very like it," said De Vane; "and it was
only last evening that you pronounced me fortunate in
being under the guidance of an angel."
"I did not suppose, Mlr. De Vane," said Esther, "that
you would take part against us."
"But, in all seriousness, ladies," said Mr. Clarendon,
"I do not expect to hear any music friom this celebrated




DE VANE.                    207
ille. Vesperini at all more pleasing to me than I have
heard from each of you within a month. After all, music
is not mere artistic skill, that may heighten its effect;
but there is in the living voice a power to move the soul,
which no instrument, however cunningly touched, can ever
rival."
"Quite true," said Miss Wordsworth; " but it is said
that Mlle. Vesperini's voice is perfection."
"That may be,", said Mr. Clarendon, "artistic perfection, but a voice must possess a living sympathy if it
wake the soul."
"That is the peculiar charm of this lady's voice," said
Miss Godolphin; " she is what may be called eloquent in
song. You know how much we have admired that, in
Miss Wordsworth's singing. And I predict for her greater
success than  Ille. Vesperini has attained, if she will be
loyal to the art."'Esther flushed, and De Vane said: "I beg, Miss Goclolphin, to lay my tribute at Miss Wordsworth's feet too.
When her grand triumphs come, she will remember us as
her early friends."
" So you are coming over to my position," said Mr.
Clarendon. " To make my triumph complete, I shall say
that I long ago discovered the yet undeveloped powers of
both these ladies; the one before her visit to Europe, and
the other some twelve months since."
The room was nearly filled, and among those who had
just entered was Waring, upon whose arm a lady of extraordinary beauty was leaning. She was the daughter
of Dr. Dahlgreen. Almost majestic in the fair proportions
of her youthful but well-developed figure, she was very
graceful, and attracted attention by her sweet manners.
Her eyes were very fine, full of expression, in which soul
and intellect were blended. She had just returned after
an absence of some months, having been on a visit to a




208                  -DE VANE.
married sister residing in the upper part of the State.
Miss Godolphin went forward to receive her, not having
met her since her return from Europe.
Esther informed De Vane of this, and explained to him
that she was well known to his friend, Mr. Waring.
"I never heard him speak of her," said De Vane. "It
is strange."
"Oh! no," said Esther, "she has been absent for months,
and you have been in society so little, that you have not
met her."
"Ah! yes, she must have left the town last winter."
"Yes, in November, I think," said Esther. "We all
admire her greatly, and I am glad to see that she has returned. Let us speak with her;" and, advancing to the
group about Miss Dahlgreen, Esther and herself greeted
each other warmly. De Vane was presented by Waring,
who said:
"This, Miss Dahigreen, is my friend, of whom you have
heard me speak."
She bowed gracefully to De Vane, who said:
" You must have come to town to-day, Miss Dahlgreen, as I had not heard of your arrival."
"Only to-day," she said, " and I sent for my friend, Mr.
Waring, to escort me, when I found that my father would
not be able to accompany me."
At this moment, Mlle. Vesperini entered the room, and
came rapidly to Miss Godolphin, attended by her uncle,
who walked behind her.
She was very animated, and bowed low, speaking with
marked gentleness in her tones, which, even in conversation, were very sweet. She was just the medium height,
a little disposed to what we style embonpoint, but well
formed and perfectly graceful. The sweetness of her manner was winning; and as she threw a glance about the
room, she seemed to spread light through it. Her hair




DE VANE.,                   209
was brushed back from her face, and gathered in heavy
rolls on either side. A wreath of green leaves encircled her
head, and rich curls fell from the back part of it on her
neck. Her dress was of white silk, small flounces of lace
covering it nearly to the waist, and a brilliant necklace of
emeralds encircled her neck.
Several gentlemen, with ladies on their arms, were presented to her, and Mr. Clarendon took charge of her, and
conducted her through the room.
Very soon after her arrival, the doors of a large room
opposite the parlor were thrown open, and the tables were
seen covered with fruits, flowers, and iced cream. And
from time to time parties entered it and partook of the refreshments.
" What impression does she make on you, Mr. De Vane?"
asked Esther.
"She is very bright," he answered, "and I am pleased.
Has she real warmth, do you suppose?"
"I should think so," said Esther; "but it is impossible
to judge her so soon. She has musical eyes. Did you ob,
serve their color?"
" No," said he. "Are they not dark?"
"Oh! no; they have a greenish hue, which it said to be
observed in all great singers."
"Indeed!" said De Vane.  "I must observe her mor
closely. Your theory is a new one to me. I do not dis
cover it in your eyes."  And he looked down into theil
glorious depths. " Yours are the purest violet I ever saw."
Are they?" said Esther, blushing.  " Then I fear that
I wanit the magic color."
"You want nothing else, then, to make you peerless in
song. Do you know that you bring tears to my eyes before I am conscious of it?"
" Certainly no higher tribute than tears can be paid to
music," she said.




210                    DE VANE.
Waring came up with Miss Dahlgreen.
" We have just been presented to the celebrated cantatrice," said Miss Dahlgreen. "Will you not speak with
her?"
"Yes," said Esther, "we intend doing so. Do you find
ner agreeable?"
"Very much so," she answered, " very much so. Her
face is a very sweet one."
" Let us speak with her," said De Vane; and advancing
with Esther to the chair where she was seated, Mr. Clarendon presented them.
Mlle. Vesperini rose from her seat, and bowed with
marked cordiality to them.  Esther's beauty impressed
her, and she could scarcely restrain her exclamations of
pleasure.
"And do you reside here?" she asked.
Yes," said Esther.
" And is this your native place?"
"No," said Esther, "Georgia is my native State; but I
have been here nearly all my life."
"Ah!" said Mlle. Vesperini.  "You are so EnglishI should have'pronounced you English if I had met you in
any part,of the world but here.  Here one meets the
several races represented, and that, too, in perfection,"
she said, with a bright smile.
"Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, "has near relatives
in England, as most of us in this country have."
" Ah! yes," she said, "it is so. I find them everywhere.
And is Miss Wordsworth related to the poet of that
name?"
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "quite nearly, I think."
"I had not learned that before," said De Vane.
"You must visit Europe, Miss Wordsworth," said Mlle.
Vesperini. "It will delight you."




DE VANE.                    211
"When I can do so," said Esther, "I shall be very happy to make the visit."
"Go to Rome, Miss Wordsworth-go to Rome. There
is the seat of the arts, as it was of empire for a thousand
years!"
She spoke with great animation.
"Paris," she continued, "is gay-appreciative, too. Vienna is grand but cold; St. Petersburgh, magnificent but
half barbarous; yet London is great but stiff. FlorenceNaples-pictures in the one, palaces and the bay in the
other; but Rome-Rome is imperial still! "
"Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon, with enthusiasm.
"Bravo!"
"You think with me, then?" said she, turning to him.
" A thousand times yes," he answered.
"I am happy," she said. "Go to Rome, Miss Wordsworth, and forget the degeneracy of every thing modern,
except the arts. Go to Rome, and let music fill your soul
and make you immortal."
De Vane's face was bright, his enthusiasm was roused.
Here stood a woman ablaze with the love of her art-the
priestess of an art nothing less than divine-and urging
another woman, whose beauty filled her soul with a
strange ardor, to visit the temple where that art found its
highest interpretation.
"You have music in you," she continued. " I read your
soul. You can interpret music-you can serve music  Go
to Rome-imperial, sublime, eternal Rome!"
She was impassioned, ana her face glowed with the
enthusiasm for her art which flamed up within her.
Esther, catching the fervor of the rapt priestess, was
resplendent, like the Parsee in the presence of the sun, and
she was conscious of a high sympathy with the extraordinary woman who stood before her.
"I am curious to know," said Mr. Clarendon, "how you




212                    DE VANE.
made the discovery that my young friend is like yourselffull of music."
" I saw it in her organization-heard it in her voiceread it as one readsthe mysteries of an art which laymen
never comprehend."
Miss Godolphin came into the group. "Here, too, is
one," said Mlle. Vesperini, "whose soul loves music. If
she had been European, she would have been an artiste;
but in this new country, your civilization does nothing
for the arts; you give them no rank, no rewards, no encouragement. When Miss Godolphin was in Paris, I read
her' soul; but she would not listen to me. She had been
to Rome-had heard the great artistes-and was then pursuing the art with wonderful enthusiasm; but when I
spoke to her of entering into its service, she shrank from
it. Caste was roused; her nationality arrested her ardor;
and she refused to enter a temple where the glories oi
heaven fill its highest dome."
"I well remember your friendly interest in me," said
Miss Godolphin, " nor can I ever forget it."
" Friendly interest! It was my love for music. I would
have led you to the shrine, where you should have ministered forever,"
Professor Niles and his wife came up to the circle which
had gathered about Mlle. Vesperini, and they entered into
conversation with her. They spoke of the great musical
celebrities of Europe, with whose fortunes they were
familiar.
Malibran was mentioned. " She is angelic!" exclaimed
Mlle.   esperini.  "She has just reappeared in Paris, in
the grand opera, Semircamicle. She is glorious! Poor
child! she came to your country to find a sad fate. She
should never have married."
"But," said Miss Godolphin, " she did not marry an
American. Malibran is a French banker in New-York."




DE VANE.                    213
"Ah! you vindicate your country, just as you were accustomed to do in Paris," she said, shaking her brilliant
fan playfully. "Artistes must not sell themselves. If you
could have heard Malibran as I heard her in London, when
she first appeared, in the part of -Rosina in II.Barbiere de'eviglio, you would have pronounced her divine.  She
was just eighteen. Ah! artistes should never sell them
selves. Gold may buy talent of any kind, but geniusinspiration-never!"
She uttered the last words with startling energy.
"No," said Miss Godolphin; "the best part of our
nature can never be bought."
There was a deep tenderness in her tones; and the lashes
fell over her large, dark eyes.
"Do you return to Europe presently?" asked Madam
Niles.
" Yes; in a month. I go first to Ireland. To me, Ireland is every thing in the summer. However it may be
with others, that is my season. My home is just on a little lake, that to me is more than the ocean."
" Your country," said Professor Niles, "is very beautiful. Its rural aspect was to me enchanting, especially
where, from its coves, one could catch glimpses of the
sea."
"If my country were like yours-free," she said, "it
would be glorious."
" You like Paris?" asked Madam Niles.
"Yes. It is brilliant. To pass the gay season there is
every thing. You meet all the world; and nowhere else
is the opera alive, but in Paris. But I would not make it
my home; rather would I pass from Italy to Ireland, and
from Ireland to Italy again, taking Paris en route."
"We heard of you in Florence," said Madam Niles,
"but did not have the pleasure of seeing you. It was
four years since."




214                    DE VANE.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mlle. Vesperini; "I was there studying
pictures."
"So we were," said Professor Niles; "and one might
pass a lifetime there in that pursuit."
"Florence is very pleasant," she said, "for one who
wishes to rest; but there is no life there. It is to me but
a dreary spot."
Then turning to Esther, she said: " "You will at some
time visit Europe? Go while you are yet young-before
your fervor is at all chilled-and while the love of art is
a passion with you."
"It is not at all certain," said Esther, "that I shall go
abroad; but if ever I feel that I can do so, I shall remember your counsel."
"It is possible, Mlle. Vesperini," said De Vane, "that I
may cross the Atlantic some time next year, and it would
be very agreeable to me to meet you in Rome. My veneration for the Eternal City is not less than your own."
"Ah! I shall be very happy to meet you. I shall expect
you next year?"
"My plans of travel are not. at all settled," he said;
"but I have such a tour in view as would take me into
Italy some time next year."
"Cross the Alps in October-not before, not afterdescend into Italy in October."
At this moment, the doors opening from the parlor into
the small drawing-room where De Vane and Waring had
been received upon their late visit, were thrown open.
Its exquisite and graceful adornments impressed every
one. The instruments of music, the pictures, the tasteful
and rare furniture, the profusion of natural flowers, lent
it an air of enchantment.
"Oh! how  charming!" exclaimed Mlle. Vesperini.
"This is Parisian."
De Vane offered her his arm, and conducted her into




DE VANE.                   215
the room. She declined to be seated, but stood looking
at the objects of art, which were distributed with fine
taste and met the view everywhere.
Mr. Clarendon advanced, with Miss Dahlgreen on his
arm, and invited her to give them some music.
With perfect grace she bowed, and took her seat at the
harp, touching the chords lightly. She changed the tone
of two or three of them, and then asked Miss Dahlgreen if
she would prefer any particular song.
" I wish rather," Miss Dahlgreen said, " to leave that to
your taste."
Esther stood near, with Waring and Miss Godolphin,
and she observed with pleasure that Mr. Springfield and
her aunt, with Mrs. Habersham, were favorably placed to
enjoy the music.,
Mile. Vesperini, with a low, tender touch to the strings,
sang from the Italian, Domini 0 me Felici, the liquid
tones blending with those of the instrument, and producing perfect harmony. Every word was distinctly uttered, and the sweetness of the voice was indescribable.
When the song ceased, so perfect was the stillness in the
room, that the rustling of the dress of the cantatrice, as
her arm, falling from the strings, rested upon it, was the
first thing that woke the audience to consciousness.
She did not attempt to rise, but smiling to Esther, she
desired her to come to her.
A murmur of applause went round the room, and Miss
Godolphin, turning to Waring, said: "That is music."
"Yes," said he.
" Miss Wordsworth," said Mlle. Vesperini, "I am about
to sing again. You heard me speak of Madame Malibran:
would you wish to hear something from the opera in which
she sang when I first heard her in London?"
"I should be delighted-thank you," said Esther.
"I will sing it for you," said Mile. Vesperini. " I am sure
that it will please you. I sometimes sing it in public."




216                    DE VANE.
Again she touched the strings, and this time with more
power, and she sang. The full, glorious volume of sound
floated out in the air, sometimes rising in strength and filling the room, and then sinking with a gentle, prolonged
cadence, as if melting into silence, until at the close a burst
of passionate energy died away into a tender, almost wailing sadness, that entered into the soul, waking its deepest
sympathy.
"O Mlle. Vesperini!" exclaimed Miss Godolphin, "how
you have interpreted music this evening'I feel as if I
never comprehended its power before."
She smiled and bowed.  Quite a number came to thank
her; and as Esther did so, her eyes dripping with tears,
she could only whisper: "Thank you!"
" The tribute of your tears to the music, Miss Wordsworth, is the highest that can be paid."
She spoke as if she were really the mere interpreter of
the art, and she accepted the homage everywhere offered
her as if it were due only to that. She was but the priestess at the shrine, standing in the midst of the worshipers.
She was about to rise from her seat, when Mr. Clarendon
came to ask her to sing something in our own language.
She yielded at once, and asked him if he would name
something. He appealed to Miss Godolphin, but she advised that it should be left to Mlle. Vesperini's own preference.
"Then," said she, "I will go to my country. I will
find something in Irish song to express what I feel for
Ireland."
Sweeping the chords of the instrument until they seemed
to breathe with sadness, she sang, with a depth of pathos
that could not be surpassed, Moore's lines describing, in
touching  eloquence, the condition of his ill-governed
country-'" The harp that once through Tara's halls;"




DE VANE.                    217
and as she poured her soul into the song, she transported
all who heard her with her own passion. The eloquence
of the utterance was irresistible. The manner in which
she gave the intenseness of her sentiment to the two closing lines was startling.
"Bravo! Bravo!" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon, approaching her as she rose from her seat, while a storm of applause
greeted her on every side.
De Vane was electrified. His eyes blazed with enthusiasm, and he exclaimed: " That song is in the language of
sadness; but the very voice of lamentation over departed
glory, if it could be heard throughout Ireland, would rouse
her sons to deliver, or perish with her."
Mile. Vesperini caught the words as she was passing,
and bowed low to him. Every one spoke with animation
of the performance, and as Mr. Clarendon took Mlle. Vesperini to the refreshment-room, he expressed his own high
appreciation of her music.
"I enjoy it myself," said she. "Music is to me every
thing. Oh! I should be so desolate without it."
- "Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, "do you observe
that painting?"
They stood in front of the large picture representing the
daughter of Herodias bearing the head of the Baptist to
her mother.
Esther stood in perfect silence for some moments. "It
is very wonderful," she said. "It resembles a picture of
my mother, which I have, as closely as if one were copied
from the other. It is very, very wonderful."
"It is a perfect likeness of yourself," said De Vane;
"perfect-features, form, expression, every thing."
She became very pale. "I have never seen this before,"
she said. "I must know its history."
"Let us pass on now," said De Vane, observing her
emotion; and entering the refreshment-room, he handed her
10




218                    DE VANE.
an ice. Others joined them, and in the animated conversation that followed, the impression of sadness made by a picture so vividly recalling her mother seemed to pass off.
Some time after, Mlle. Vesperini came to her, and said:
"I am going to ask you to sing. Of course you will not
refuse me."
She colored to the temples. She was really distressed.
" Can you not excuse me?" she said. " Not after your
singing, surely not after that. Will you not excuse me?"
" I really wish to hear you," said Mile. Vesperini. "Do
oblige me."
" Of course," said Esther, "every one must know that
in singing this evening I yield my wishes to yours." And
putting her arm in that of Mile. Vesperini, with a graceful
expression in her manner, of deference to so celebrated an
artist, she accompanied her to the drawing-room. She
took her seat at the harp, and her attitude was that of perfect grace. Never had her beauty been more resplendent.
There was nothing of embarrassment in her' manner, but
something of consciousness was seen in her expression-a
slight indication of her sense of the very severe task which
she was about to undertake.
Her dress was becoming to her; it was snowy white, and
fell in rich folds about her person. She wore a necklace
of pearls, and in her hair the crimson passion-flower was
twisted with violets.
After touching lightly the strings of the instrument,
which seemed to breathe under her snowy fingers, she
sang:
"I know that my Redeemer liveth."
Her voice, gaining strength and increasing in power as
she advanced, rose upon the air. It was as full of sublime
and thrilling sympathy with the world's great hope of immortality, as if an angel, unseen by others, stood befdre her




DE VANE.                    219
in revealing liglht, and warmed her soul with the love that
fills the hearts of seraphs; and as the dying cadences were
lost in silence, every one felt that something celestial lingered near them.
MIlle. Vesperini's eyes were swimming in tears. In her
ardor, she rushed to Esther's chair, threw an arm about
her, and said: " Oh! that you were with me in Rome."
"Ah! Mile. Vesperini," said MIr. Clarendon, brushing
his eyes, "we could not give her up."
De Vane's face was radiant. Turning to Waring, he
said:
"What a triumph!"
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "she is glorious. Her
song, too, is characteristic of herself.  She could have
chosen nothing so appropriate."
There were some present who had never heard Esther
before, and the rapturous applause that greeted her, proved
how well she was appreciated. She rose from her seat,
conducted by Mile. Vesperini, and approached the group
where Waring and De Vane were standing.
De Vane greeted her warmly, and said: "I will not attempt to thank you-I can not."
" Nothing can be finer than that in the way of uttering
thanks," said Mlle. Vesperini, smiling.
Varing gave Esther his hand silently. Miss Godolphin
was exultant; she said:
"I am not taken by surprise. I knew you before; but
I am delighted that Mile. Vesperini has heard you."
More music was called for. The love for it seemed to
grow by that it fed on. Miss Dahlgreen urged Miss Godolphin to sing.
"Oh! no," she said. "Mlle. Vesperini has heard me.
I am at home here, and can be heard at any time. Will
you not favor us, Miss Dahlgreen?"
"Not this evening, thank you," she replied. "I only




220- DE VANE.
sing to cheer my friends at home; and for some time past
have bestowed too little attention on music."
"You must not appeal to me," said Waring, as she
looked toward him. "I heard you last fall, and I was so
charmed, that I threatened, you remember, to visit you
every week, to hear you."
"Yes, you are very good, Mr. Waring, I know; but I
really sing very little."
Miss Godolphin took her seat at the piano, and Mlle.
Vesperini and Esther undertook to accompany her in
singing.
It was done with great effect, each voice at times sustaining a single part, and again blending in strong and
deep harmony.
Miss Godolphin's voice was one of great power, and in
cultivation almost rivaled that of Mlle. Vesperini. Rarely, in any circles, had such music been heard; and the little capital could boast at once of its beauty, its genius, its
eloquence, its arts, and its statesmanship.
The flying hours were swiftly passing. Looking out
from the gallery which ran on the side of the drawingroom, and into which its windows opened, the stars were
seen in theirbright courses, and the moon flooded the garden with its radiance.
Mlle. Vesperini was prevailed on to sing once more-to
sing one of those favorite melodies, which the genius of
her countryman, Moore, had produced.
She sat at the harp. Its tones were sadder than ever:
they seemed to steal from a broken heart; and the voice
of the cantatrice, in tenderest sympathy with them, floated
upon the air.
She sang those tender lines, written in the highest conception of love desolate, and mourning the young heroic
dead" She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps;"




DE VANE.                    221
and the gush of emotion which she could not restrain,
was as thrilling as if she herself were the young maiden
whose heart had been crushed by the blow which destroyed
her lover, lamenting at once his fate and her own.
De Vane was standing neai Miss Godolphin, and he had
observed that from the moment the artist's fingers had
struck from the chords of the harp the air which had just
died in their trembling tones, she grew pale, as the song
was uttered in such passionate eloquence. She seemed
scarcely conscious; and when it ceased, she reeled and
was falling, when he caught her and placed her in a chair.
Scarcely any one had observed her emotion, for their eyes
were fixed on Mile. Vesperini, and De Vane, with perfect
self-possession and delicacy, shielded her from those about
him. Her head rested for a moment on his arm, pale as
if death had robbed those classical features forever of their
glowing beauty. Then, with a deep sigh, she woke to
consciousness, and the warm blood, returning, suffused her
very brow.
She looked up to De Vane's face, and murmured: "Thank
you."
" Let me bring you an ice," he said.
" No," she replied, " I will go with you; and passing
her arm through that of De Vane, they went into the refreshment-room, almost unobserved.'Not wholly so, for
Waring had witnessed the scene; but with full sympathy
with De Vane, he had placed himself so as to protect them
from the view of others.
After a little time, De Vane returned to the drawingroom, and said to Esther that Miss Godolphin wished her
to excuse her absence' to Mile. Vesperini, and say to her
that she would join her very soon.
Esther approached Mile. Vesperini, and delivered the
message. Miss Dahlgreen came forward, and expressed




222                   DE VANE.
her thanks to Mile. Vesperini for the pleasure which she
had afforded them all.
"Ah!" she replied, " you do not know how I have enjoyed the evening.  This place is charming.  I know
nothing like it in this country. I shall carry away with
me such impressions, and cherish such recollections! It is
charming."
" We are much pleased to hear you say so," said Miss
Dahlgreen. "One who has seen so much that is attractive in the world, in pronouncing so warmly her approval
of us, must know how we prize the tribute."
Miss Godolphin entered the room, and engaged in conversation with them.
"A thousand thanks to you, Miss Godolphin," said
Mlle. Vesperini, "for this charming evening. I wish that
I could linger with'you, but the wheels will to-morrow
bear me away."
"Not to-morrow," said Mrs. Habersham. " We did
hope to have you with us longer."
"To-morrow evening, madame, I shall be compelled to
fly. Ireland calls me-I must see my home."
Then followed the leave-taking. The guests departed;
but long lingered in their memory the sounds that had
floated over their souls, and the words of song which had
awakened within them a new and strong sympathy with
the divine art.
"Let us walk, Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane; " the
night is fine."
"I fear, Esther," said Mrs. Springfield, "that you will
take cold. It may be better that Mr. De Vane and yourself should join us in the carriage."
Esther decided to walk, and De Vane wrapping her in
her ample shawl, they enjoyed the fresh air of the balmy
night.




CHAPTER XX.,...'" PEACE hath her victories
No less renowned than war. New foes arise,
Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains."
JOHN MILTON.
A VERY large number of persons called the next day,
and left their cards for Mlle. Vesperini.  She was out
driving, attracted by the verdure, which gave an aspect of
rural beauty to the town and its environs.  Every one
was disposed to acknowledge the claim of the celebrated
cantatrice to their consideration; a claim which her genius,
her purity of character, and her fine manners, made it any
thing but a task to meet by such attentions as her brief
stay afforded them the opportunity to tender. The town,
distinguished for its refinement, was attractive to strangers, and European travelers embraced it in their tour,
and spoke of it everywhere in terms which were not more
glowing than they were just.  The College shed about it
an intellectual influence which was very marked, while
the highest courts in the State being held there, and the
annual assembling of the Legislature, made it a place of
far- greater interest and importance than its numerical
population or its commercial activity would have conferred on it, if it had been left dependent on these alone.
Long may its College prosper! Long may it be the seat
of a government distinguished for intelligence, statesmanship, and dignity!
De Vane's visits to Mr. Springfield's became more fre(223)




224                   DE VANE.
quent, and he could no longer conceal from himself his
growing interest in Esther.  They were much together.
Books, music, art-all interested them. Not a word of
ive was spoken, not a hint of the slightest change in
their relations. They walked side by side, and knew and
trusted each other more fully every day. The rich, vigorous mind of De Vane stimulated Esther in her studies,
and she habitually consulted him in reference to her course
of reading. By a reflex influence, too, she guided his
tastes, and brought to his view such works as she felt
satisfied would conduct him to that central stand-point in
all learning which would enable him to see knowledge
in its highest relations-relations which, seeming to be
bounded by the horizon of the visible world, really
stretched out illimitably and embraced the universe. She
was far too wise to obtrude her views upon him, and even
when he sought a conversation with her upon the great
questions of morals, she suggested rather than argued.
His pride of character she well knew. She had said to him
that he was very proud, and she scrupulously forbore to
put him in the attitude of defending opinions which he
sometimes expressed, by combating them-opinions very
odious to her, too. But she would content herself with
calling his attention to certain other views which ought
fairly to be examined in connection with them. She was
very wise, and her influence over him was far greater than
he ever supposed it to be. As an angel, invisible to our
mortal eyes, may walk by our side and guide our steps, so
she, quite unconsciously to him, walked with him, and
often influenced him where he might have erred. The nobleness of his nature was such that he loved the true, the
good; though, as he had ever remarked of himself, he
loved the beautiful intensely, and his tastes being offended would sometimes make him turn away from what was
both good and true. There was a grandeur in his charac



DE VANE.                    225
ter which elevated him very far above commonplace men,
and his integrity was thorough. What his future was to
be could not be decided: he was but upon the threshold of
life. Who can read the horoscope of a young man of intellect, ardor, and ambition?
The political contest through which the country was
passing was deepening in interest, and it roused the energies of the State. Mr. Clarendon felt the deepest interest
in the election of General Jackson, and he exerted all the
power of his magnificent mind to bring it about. Mr.
Adams was conducting the administration upon principles
which he could not approve, and Mr. Clay was developing
his system for the protection of American industry with
great boldness. Much as Mr. Clarendon admired the personal qualities of those distinguished statesmen-the one
a scholar, the other almost peerless as an orator-he could
not give his sanction to a system false in itself as a measure of national policy, and as hurtful to the S.outh as it
was unfair to every other interest in the country but the
manufactures which it sought to protect, while it was a
flagrant violation of the Constitution.
General Jackson, too, was heroic in his character, remarkable for self-reliance, and eminently fitted to lead the
way to a complete popular victory. He was of the people;
they loved him, believed in him, and would follow himwithout hesitation, either in the red path of battle, or in
the political contest, hardly less fierce, in which he was
now engaged. His previous defeat was not the result of
the want of popular confidence; but several eminent men
being candidates for the Presidency, the vote of the electoral colleges was so divided that no one of the aspirants obtained a majority. General Jackson led the way in the
splendid course which opened to the coveted place; but,
by a provision of the Constitution, the election devolved
upon the House of Representatives in the event of a failure
10*




226                   DE VANE.
of the electoral colleges to give to some one person a majority of the whole vote. General Jackson, of Tennessee,
John Quincy Adams, of Massachusetts, and William H.
Crawford, of Georgia, were the three who stood highest
in the list of candidates by the popular vote. Mr. Clay,
of Kentucky, fell short of the requisite number, and could
not go before the HIouse of Representatives; but, being
the leading member of that body, his influence over it was
controlling. It is well known that, if Mr. Crawford's
health had not suddenly failed, he would have been the
choice of the House; but a shadow passed over his grand
intellect, and unfitted him for the labors of that eminent
position. As an eagle, rising upon strong wing from his
mountain eyrie toward some loftier and sublimer peak,
from which he might with undazzled eye look out upon
the boundless plain, sinks suddenly with drooping wing,
and seeks the humbler resting-place from which he had
soared, so this really great man sank in the very moment
of anticipated triumph, when he had almost reached the
highest flight of his ambition; and returning to the State
which still loved and honored him, passed the remainder
of his life in the discharge of humbler duties. Mr. Adams
was the choice of the House-a result due to Mr. Clay's
influence.
Now, the recurrence of another election brought with it
still intense strife. The friends of Mr. Adams and of Mr.
Clay employed all their means to secure the reelection of
the President, that he might, in accordance with" the usage,
then unbroken, of a service of eight years, except in the
single instance of his own father, fill the measure of his
ambition and his fame; while the supporters of General
Jackson, roused and fired, put out all their energies in his
behalf. By midsummer the contest had become a very
animated one. Mr. Clarendon entered into it with ardor;
he insisted that the contest involved principles of the




DE VANE.                   227
largest interest and importance; that it was a struggle not
for men, but for the ascendency of the fiiends of the Constitution over its enemies; that the structure of the Government was such as to make it essential to adhere to the
doctrines advanced by the friends of the rights of the
States, and not to surrender it to the control of those
statesmen who sought to convert it into a grand imperial
consolidated system, which would merge the rights of the
States in the power and glory of the empire.
Into these views De Vane fully entered. He wrote and
spoke for them  with power, and attracted attention by
the vigor and earnestness with which he advocated truths
that he believed to be essential to the prosperity and glory
of the country. There was an elevation and dignity about
his manner, his tone, his style of thought, that separated
him widely from commonplace politicians; and he was
already, in character, in breadth of view, and in his whole
bearing, entitled to the name of statesman.
He was about to visit Virginia. His father had expressed a decided wish that he should do so. Still he lingered-he scarcely knew why; but he found it not at all
easy to complete his arrangements for his journey. He
was much at Mr. Springfield's; and he had explained to
Mrs. Springfield and to Esther his plans. He was to visit
his home, pass the summer, or what was left of it, in the
mountains, and return in October to pursue his studies.
Waring, too, had been consulted. He approved his views,
and urged him to adhere to his resolution as to his future
residence. It was Waring's plan for the summer vacation,
to remain at home, and fit himself, by diligent study, to
enter upon his duties at the opening of the ensuing session
of the College; and he was already quite advanced in his
preparation for a course of lectures, upon the subjects embraced in his department.
Esther had relaxed somewhat her course of training for




228                   DE VANlE.
the little girls, thinking that, in the heat of the summer
months, it might be better for them to be employed with
the needle, and with drawing and painting, than to be
confined to books. The arrangement, too, afforded her
the relaxation which she wished; and as Mrs. Green was
very competent to instruct her little charge in needlework, one of the more advanced pupils was to undertake
the task of looking after their progress in the arts, as Esther playfully styled them. She made them a daily morning call, joined in their devotions, and looked into their
little wants. The garden which supplied the table with
vegetables was well looked after by "Uncle Jacob," as
they all called the old servant. He, prided himself upon
having the earliest, the best, and the latest fruits and
vegetables in the town.
One evening, when the sun was just sinking behind the
western hills, De Vane sat at the melodeon in Waring's
room, touching its keys with an air of abstraction. Waring had walked out. He was alone, and the thought of
his journey, now soon to be undertaken, depressed him.
What changes had come over him, since he last saw.his
home, when very young, full of ardor, and impressed with
the stateliness of the aristocratic life which had surrounded
him! ]Now how little there was in all that to attract him!He did not undervalue rank, nor wealth, nor power; but
he had learned to estimate them at what they were worth.
He had learned to distinguish the real from the ideal; to
prize truth, and goodness, and refinement, wherever he
found them. His tastes were purer, simpler than before;
and, while his ambition was none the less, it had addressed
itself to the attainment of grander objects, by nobler
means. He saw now, that the aim of aristocratic appointments, which made the social distinctions of life so broad,
was to perpetuate high qualities, by preseiving one class
from deterioration, providing for it the means of culture,




DE VANE.                   229
which should insure a proper training, and make the mind,
the heart, the tastes, the manners, what they should be.
But he saw how all this had failed; how the aristocratic
class was becoming enfeebled; and how the humbler class
was advancing in intellectual power and moral excellence.
He saw how much there was of beauty, of refinement of
mind, of goodness, in those whom the aristocratic professed
to despise. The young patrician's brow darkened as these
thoughts came over him. Was Waring his friend? One
of the noblest men the world ever saw; full of intellect,
of strength, of generous sympathy, of manly virtue, of refinement, of sensibility, of a heroic love of truth-was
such a man to be despised because he lacked wealth; because he had taught, to enable his sister to enjoy the little
estate left to them, not large enough for both, but suffi-cient for her; because he belonged to a, religious sect despised by many; and because he stepped forward into the
work of the ministry among this people, under the promptings of a great heart, and an imperious sense of duty-was
such a man to be looked down upon as a plebeian?
Was Mr. Springfield to be despised-a man) of the
highest order, whose mind, heart, education, tastes, manners, elevated him above tens of thousands of those who
talked of race, and family, and caste?
Esther, a peerless woman, glorious in person, in intellect,
in soul; a ministering angel on earth, turning away from
the frivolous and little objects which so many of her age
prized; bestowing her abounding means in the rearing,
and support, and culture of the helpless; full of all generous qualities; accomplished to a degree which threw the
attainments of the tribe of elegant high-born triflers into
the shade; with a soul full of truth-was she to be looked
down upon because she was the daughter of a Methodist
preacher, as he had heard him styled? Because she was
herself a Methodist, was she to be despised? or if not




230                    DE VANE.
despised,'treated with a condescending patronage more
insulting still?
The young patrician's lips were very firmly compressed,
his eyes grew larger, and in their dark depths the blaze of
irrepressible indignation flamed.
He struck the keys of the instrument, and there rolled
from it a lofty strain, which seemed to seek the heavens,
grand, solemn, awe-inspiring; then it swelled into an anthem, which filled the room with its volume.
Waring had returned, and was standing in the door of
the room, his arms crossed upon his breast. He would
not disturb De Vane. He stood and observed him. He
saw that he was roused. And as the music from the fine
instrument rolled away, his face expressed the admiration
and intent with which he regarded the young patrician.
The music ceased. De Vane closed the instrument, and
rose from his seat. His face was calmer, but a high sentiment was expressed in his features.
Waring had not moved, and De Vane, turning toward
the door, for the first time became aware of his presence.
"O Waring! you have returned.  Where on earth
have you been wandering?"
"Not quite beyond this dusty world, but still in a pleasant part of it. I have been in the public garden."
"Indeed! And did you meet any agreeable people?"
"Several," said Waring.
"Now, you intend," said De Vane, "that I shall ask
after them particularly. Why not be a generous fellow
at once? You need not stand upon your dignity. It's
vacation now."
Waring smiled, and said: " The garden was unusually
thronged, and I met a number of persons —some of them
very agreeable."
"Was Miss Godolphin there?"




DE VANE.                   231
"She was," said Waring, "and asked after you particularly."
",I hope you gave a good account of me."
"Yes," said Waring, "I told her that you were still
studying faithfully-law in the morning, and other matters in the evening, perhaps not so profitable; but that I
thought you were becoming a little more humanized, for
you were somewhat more inclined than formerly to visit
the ladies.  At which report of you she seemed quite
pleased."
"I'm very much obliged to you both," said De Vane.
"Yes, and perhaps you will be still more pleased to
learn that Miss Wordsworth was with her."
" Indeed!" said De Vane, looking slightly conscious.
" Oh! yes," said Waring, " and I am instructed to inform you that Miss Godolphin takes Miss Wordsworth
with her to tea, and that you are expected to join them
without any unnecessary delay."
"You are a gracious messenger," said De Vane; "and
may I inquire if you are to honor the ladies with your
presence?"
"I am to have the honor of accompanying you," he
replied; " so let us walk."
As they descended the stairs, they saw Mrs. Bowen,
and explained to her that they would not remain for tea,
and she said:
""Well, I'm glad to see you go out; not that I don't
like to have you here, but I know that you will enjoy
yourselves much better."
"Thank you, Mrs. Bowen," said De Vane. "I enjoy
your house very much, but I must take Professor Waring
out sometimes, to see the ladies."
"Ah! yes, I understand it," she said; "it's all right."
They bade her good evening, and walked away. A few
minutes' walk brought them to Mrs. Habersham's; and




232                   DE VANE.
they were shown into a small drawing-room, where they
found the ladies.
"You observe, ladies," said Waring, "that I have carried out my instructions."
"Faithfully," said Miss Godolphin, "for which we are
obliged. Not finding you in the walk which you sometimes take, Mr. De Vane," she continued, "we asked Mr.
Waring to be so good as to invite you to join this evening in a cup of tea, quietly, and we are very glad to see
you."
"I am most happy to come," said De Vane, bowing.
" My friend here deserted me this evening in some way,
and left me to the solitude of my room. If I had known
that he was going in search of you, I should have joined
him."
"I am sure he had no such purpose," said Miss Godolphin; "but taking a turn through the walks of the public
garden, after a visit to Leasowes, with Miss Wordsworth,
we had the good fortune to meet Mr. Waring."
" Of course," said De Vane. "Fortunate man! I must
hereafter keep close by his side."
Esther was much amused, and Miss Godolphin exclaimed: "A willful man will have his way."
A rich silver tea-service was brought in by a footman,
and small tables were placed by the chair of each guest;
he then, after placing on the table a silver waiter, filled
with light gateaux and confitures, withdrew. Mrs. Habersham took her seat near the tea-service, and made the
tea, the gentlemen passing it to the ladies, and taking their
own cups. Servants were excluded from the room, both
at breakfast and tea, at Mrs. Habersham's; the European
style being adopted, which leaves the family free to indulge in conversation without restraint.
After tea,- Mrs. -Habersham withdrew, and the conversation was of books, especially of some which had lately




DE VANE.                   233
appeared. Sir Walter Scott was giving to the press at
that time those entertaining books which have been so
widely diffused throughout the world, and which have
contributed so much to cheer the hours'of many, who,
without them, would have been listless, or would have
turned to amusements less innocent than reading pages
which are full of refinement, of taste, and of culture.
He has almost dramatized history; and often, with a slender thread df fiction, has guided the mind through an extended view of real events and actual objects. His poetical andjhis-prose orks were both discussed.
" His poetry is very pleasing," said- Miss Godolphin,
"-but it possesses no depth of sentiment, no passion. It
charms by its descriptions and its narrations."
De Vane said: " He abandoned the field of poetry to
explore another, which he has shown to be very attractive.
His historical novels are charming. They possess a dramatic interest, which is so attractive to all classes."
"The great charm of Scott," said Miss Godolphin, "is
ais genial nature, his kindliness. One feels safe under his
guidance; and no matter where he may lead you, he will,
you are sure, protect you, and bring you back from lake,
or mountain height, or tournament, or battle, safely. He
is your friend all the way that you journey in his company."
Esther spoke of the Bride of Lammermoor as evincing
more of depth of sentiment than any of his tales which
she had read, and said: " It depresses me sadly to read it.
There is scarcely any thing of the kind which affects me
so much."
"It is not to be wondered at," said De Vane. "It is
_ntensely sad. Every incident in the progress of the story
throws its sombre shadow over the future. The scene at
the fountain is full of this-the fluttering raven falling at
the feet of Ravenswood and Miss Ashton, pierced with an




234                   DE VANE.
arrow, the blood staining her white dress. I do not wonder that the book depresses you. Never read it."
"The declining fortunes," said Miss Godolphin, " of Ravenswood, his pride, his dignity, his nobleness, are to me
very affecting. It is dreadful to witness the struggle between a noble, generous, proud spirit, and the adverse fortunes which he encounters in striving to uphold the claims
of his house. Such a social spectacle is at any time heartrending."
"No man," said Waring, " should carry on such a
struggle. It can only occur where society is organized
upon a basis too artificial to be stable. Every man should
be willing to work for his living, when it becomes necessary to do so. He is the happier for it, and far more respectable."
" Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "in this country that is
quite true; but in a country where no labor is reputable
but military service, it is not so. Indeed, even in this
country, there is sometimes a painful yielding to declining
fortunes in families accustomed to wealth."
" But," said Waring, " it ought not to be so anywhere.
Labor ought always to be reputable. Self-reliance, independence-these are heroic qualities, and these ought to
be encouraged. I have seen young men, whose fathers
were loaded with debt, and were struggling to bear up
under its burdens, too, I will not say proud-I will not
degrade the term by such an application of it-too mean
to work, and actually seeking to obtain credit upon the
account of these very fathers, when it required some address to do it. That spectacle humiliates me."
He spoke with energy, and De Vane looked at him with
admiration.
I quite agree with you, Mr. Waring," said Miss Godolphin, " in that view. You can not state it too strongly for
me. But when the blow first falls-when the extent of




DE VANE.                   235
the calamity is not known-when the hope of better times
has not yet died out, and when the persons are hardly
fitted for the rough service of life, ah! then the blasts of
adversity are keenly felt."
"There are doubtless such cases," said Waring. "But
I am very impatient at the attempt that I see sometimes
made, in this country, to put labor under the ban. I honor
it, and if there be any one to whom I would bow reverently
and take off my hat, it is to a mechanic, with bent form
and stiffened frame, who is making hi5 way with feeble
steps toward a home which he has worn out his life in trying to make a happy one."
Miss Godolphin's eyes filled with tears. "Ah! Mr. Waring," she said, "I honor the sentiment, as much as you do
the bent laborer. You are not more sturdily American
than I am."
"I have never doubted that," said he. "You are too
earnest to sympathize with a heartless social system, that
wishes to degrade industry, and stamp self-reliance as plebeian. But," he continued, after a moment's pause, " while
I have known such cases, Miss Godolphin, as those to
which you refer, where the sudden reverses of life have
brought great wretchedness, I have witnessed other instances which were more deplorable still; instances where
daughters, thoroughly educated, and competent to teach,
had disdained the slightest exertion when misfortunes came
that brought distress, and painful, exhausting toil upon the
father who had supplied them with every luxury in their
better days. How much better, how much happier, how
much more respectable they would have been, if with their
hands they had ministered to the wants of the family, and
solaced the anxieties that bowed the form of one whose
cup was made still more bitter by the thought that he
could no longer meet the wishes and gratify the tastes of




236                    DE VANE.
those who hung about him! I love and honor independence unspeakably."
"Miss Godolphin's criticism," said De Vane, " or rather
her appreciative remark as to the unhappy condition of
Ravenswood, is a perfectly just one. His position, and the
country and the times in which he lived, made it impossible that he could do any thing to better his fortunes, except as a soldier; and sad as it was to see the quicksands
of Kelpie's Flow close over him and his horse, as he rode
to meet Douglas Ashton, I experienced a sense of relief too.
I could not bear to see him struggling in the midst of lifelong humiliations. Better death than that. His own mournful words spake the nobleness of his nature, when he said
to the faithful Caleb:' You have no longer a master. Why,
old man, would you cling to a falling tower?'"
Esther had said nothing for some time. She was deeply
interested in the discussion which had been going on, and
as De Vane made his last remark, she fixed her eyes upon
him with unconscious earnestness. She sympathized profoundly with him, and she comprehended how a grand
nature like his might, under some circumstances, grow
weary of life, if there were not something to cheer the
spirit beyond the visible objects of time.
" Do you then, Mr. De Vane," she said, " not agree with
IIamlet, that we should'rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of'?"
"Ah! he spoke of taking one's own life," said De Vane.
" That, I think, is never to be done, certainly never to be
looked to, as an escape from the weariness of life. But I
spoke of perishing by some casualty."
"Even then," she said, "sudden death is terrible; for it
precipitates us into




DE VANE.                    237'The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveler returns.'"
De Vane looked grave. Waring said nothing, but smiled.
"Death, under any circumstances," said Miss Godolphin,
"is appalling."
"Fai' from it," said Waring. I have seen it under circumstances which made it luminous and triumphant."
"So have I-once," said De Vane.
A silence-stillness reigned for some moments.
At length Miss Godolphin said: "That Bride of Lammermoor has saddened us all. Poor Lucy Ashton! Let
us turn to something gayer."
She rose, and rang for a servant. "Bring us some ices,"
she said.
He presently returned with refreshments, and left the
room again.
"How delicious ices are!" said Esther; "water-ices
especially!"
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin. "I find them refreshing
in mid-winter."
After some general conversation, Esther said:
" Miss Godolphin, when I was last here, Mr. De Vane
called my attention to a picture in the drawing-room where
we were that evening, which greatly interested me. Will
you give me its history?"
Miss Godolphin looked at De Vane quickly.
"I said nothing to Miss Wordsworth of its history," he
said. "I pointed it out to her, but we left the room soon
after, and I made no explanations."
"Then you know its history?" said Esther, turning to
him with surprise.
"Only what I have told him," said Miss Godolphin,
"and you shall soon learn that. It so happened that when
we were in Naples the last winter we passed in Europe,




238'DE VANE.
we visited the studio of an eminent artist from our own
country, and we saw the picture there. My aunt purchased
several of his paintings-some of them very costly-aand I
two or three. Struck with the beauty and exquisite finish
of the large picture to which you refer-that which represents Salome, the daughter of Herodias, bearing the head
of John the Baptist to her mother-I offered to purchase
it. The artist refused to sell it, afid said he valued it
highly, not only as one of his very best pictures, but because it was associated with recollections that endeared it
to him. He made no further explanation, and, of course,
I could ask for none. Some days after I called again, and
was standing before the picture which so powerfully attracted me, when the artist came to me, and said that I
seemed really to value the painting which I was examining; that he had painted it in Rome, during the last season; that it was endeared to him by associations of the
strongest kind; that nothing could induce him to sell it,
but that he had the means of reproducing it, if he should
desire to do so at some future time; and that as I appreciated it, he would present it to me if I would accept it,
adding that it would be seen in that part of his native
country where he most desired to be favorably known. I,
of course, thanked him warmly, and did not refuse it. He
said he would have it forwarded to my address. A few
weeks since, it arrived, and when it was hung, I then saw
the wonderful resemblance which Salome bore to yourself.
This is the history of the picture. Let us go and see it."
Rising from her seat, she rang for a servant, and ordered
the green drawing-room to be lighted.
"It is very strange," said Esther. "It must, of course,
be an accidental resemblance."
"I should suppose so," said Miss Godolphin, "if the resemblance were less striking, and limited to the features;
but the fidelity of the picture to features, form, hair, ex



DE VANE.                   239
pression, is so remarkable, that I confess I think a mystery
surrounds it which we do not yet comprehend."
Speaking with great earnestness, she rose and conducted
the party into the drawing-room with green silk hangings
and furniture. It was octagonal in form, and on one of the
panels, suspended by a rich, heavy cord of green silk,
with tassels touching the elaborate frame, was the picture.
The room was well lighted; and as the party entered it,
the figure of the Jewish maiden, with her flowing white
robes and crimson shawl, her face turned upon the spectators, seemed to breathe with life and emotion, and the resemblance to Esther was so perfect as to be absolutely
startling. She herself stood in mute astonishment, and as
she fixed her lustrous eyes upon the picture, they swam in
tears, and her lips parting, unconsciously she said, scarcely
loud enough to be heard even by De Vane, upon whose
arm she rested: "Oh! how like my mother!"
Her emotion was observed, and too much respect was
felt for it, to disturb her fixed gaze upon the picture.
After some moments she said: " I have in my possession,
Miss Godolphin, a portrait which you have never seen. It
is of my mother, and hangs in my own chamber. It was
painted for her when she was of my age, and the name of
the artist is unknown to me, but the, picture is of the
highest style of art."
"It is strange," said Miss Godolphin. "I confess myself wholly unable to explain it."
"The picture is a glorious one," said De Vane. "I never
saw one so fine."
"It is one of extraordinary beauty," said Waring, "and
I now see that the resemblance to Miss Wordsworth is
even more faithful than I had supposed it to be, when I
first saw it."
Miss Godolphin conducted them to the other paintings




240                   DE VANE.
which adorned the walls; and as they reached her own
portrait, they stood to examineit.
" It is superb," said De Vane. " It impressed me the first
time I saw it. Not only is the likeness remarkable, but
the whole painting is wonderfully fine."
"How little good taste is usually shown in portraits!"
said Waring. "The awkwardness, stiffness, and conceit
make them unbearable; but this is free from faults."
"The criticism," said Miss Godolphin, "is a very just
one. A difficulty sometimes occurs as to costume. The
changing styles, not only of different ages, but those which
occur in the course of a very few years, give to portraits,
in some instances, a quaint and even a ludicrous appearance."
"There should," said De Vane, "be as little of modern
costume introduced in a picture as possible. The drapery
should be loose and flowing. The nearest approximation
to the classical style is the best; best in every way, for it
is quite certain that- the standard of perfection in the arts
was attained under the skies of Greece."
"Your remark," said Esther, "is especially true of statuary. The drapery should be flowing. The toga was the
most becoming garment ever worn by your sex."
"Perfectly true," said De Vane, " and I should be pleased
to go back to it. How shocking it is to see buttons, for
instance, either in bronze or marble, on the skirts of ladies,,
more or less ample!"
"I am not at all sure that I agree with you," said Waring. " I do not think it appropriate to see modern heroes
and statesmen represented in ancient costume, and especially half-nude.
"I am astonished at you," said De Vane. "The nearer
nude you produce the statue, the more closely do you approach the well-established principles of art.  Art has
principles as well defined, and laws as binding, as any of




DE VANE.                    241
the sciences; and you can not depart from them without
detriment to the subject."
"I should subordinate every thing," said Waring, " to
higher laws than those of taste; and I am not at all sure
that by exhibiting the half-nude form of a hero-certainly
of a statesman, and to go higher still, of an apostle-you
do not impair the impression of dignity which it is the
wish of the artist to create."
"Rank heresy!" said De Vane. " Bless my soul! Waring, you must positively review your impressions of art.
Look at all'the representations of the human form in sculpture or painting-from the time of Phidias and Apollo
uill now-and you will find them more or less nude.! If
you exclude the ancients as heathens-as I suspect you are
inclined to do-then take the artists from the time when
the Christian era dawned, and when every thing began to
adjust itself to the new order of thought and emotion, and
you will find my view confirmed. Take the sculpture, the
paintings of those days, the pictures of the apostles, of
saints of both sexes, and see if you will not find a universal
concurrence in the principles of taste, especially in the
grand principle, that the human form must be presented
with as' little drapery as is consistent with cultivated
taste."
" There is one exception to the principle which you lay
down, Mr. De Vane," said Miss Godolphin. " The blessed
Virgin is everywhere in full drapery. I do not know that
I can recall another instance in which your law is not well
settled in its application to the works of the great masters, both in sculpture and painting."
"And the exception which you state," said Waring,
"is so fully sustained by the sentiment of the world, that
it proves it to be well founded. It rests upon a principle
of our nature, and it is only education which can accustom the eye to any great departure fiom it."
11




242                   DE VANE.
"Suppose Hercules, throttling the Nemean lion," said
De Vane, "or Laocoon and his sons in the folds of the serpent, were represented in drapery, would not the impression be destroyed?  Or the dying gladiator-would it
not impair the effect? I admit that in painting, the adjustment of drapery is more tractable, and therefore to be
more modified, to suit even an uncultivated taste. But at
all events, let us not insist on coats and vests for gentlemen, or a very literal copying even of the dresses of our
ladies, either in sculpture or painting."
They all laughed, and were passing to another picture,
when a servant entered, and approaching Miss Godolphin,
informed her that Miss Wordsworth's carriage had arrived. All exclaimed against such an early departure; but
upon looking at the clock, it was discovered that the hour
was really a late one.
It was agreed that on the evening after the next, which
would be Thursday, they should meet again at Mrs.
Springfield's.
Waring and De Vane both drove with Esther to her
door, and then took leave of her, declining to be taken
home in the carriage.




CHAPTER XXI.
BAim would we aught behold of higher worth
Than that inanimate cold world allowed
To the poor, loveless, ever-anxious crowdAh! from the soul itself must issue forth
A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud
Enveloping the earth."
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.
THE arrangements for De Vane's departure were nearly
completed.  He must go, reluctant as he was to quit the
enchanted circle in which he moved,.giving and receiving
pleasure. His sense of duty imperiously exerted its control over him.  Such was his organization, that strong as
his passions were, they were under the dominion of his
principles.  The tide might swell with apparently resistless power, and the waves lash the resounding shore, but
they were stayed by a law of his nature that they could
not overcome.  The sensibility which characterized him,
made him seem, to a casual observer, too warm for steady
resistance to his inclinations; but those who knew him
comprehended how firmly he could plant himself when he
made up his mind that it was his duty to hold his position.  He was easily influenced by his tastes, and attracted or repelled by what pleased or offended his sense of the
beautiful; but when an appeal was made to his sense of
right, the decision was made in obedience to that. He
must return home, and he decided to leave the following
Monday.  The invitation for Thursday evening cheered
him.  He would once more enjoy a visit to a family to
(243)




244                   DE VANE.
which he had become strongly attached; for, independent
of his very deep interest in Esther, his respect and regard
for Mr. and Mrs. Springfield were strong. He retained
his room at Mrs. Bowen's, assuring her that he should reenter it in October, and giving directions that his books
and furniture should be looked after during his absence.
His room was his home-he loved it-and he could not
think of tearing himself away from a place so dear to him
as the town where he had passed the happiest years of his
life, without holding his claim upon one spot-that he
might think of, in his absence, as his own. How the soul
clings to inanimate objects, and invests them with its own
light 
When Thursday evening came,' De Vane - and Waring
to6k their walk, turning their steps toward the College.
They walked through the deserted campus, and felt the
sadness of its loneliness. They lingered but a little while,
and then returned, going directly to Mr. Springfield's.
Miss Godolphin was already there. The house was a
delightful one, full of objects of grace and beauty-books,
engravings, statuettes, instruments of music. The latest
reviews were laid upon the table. The snowy muslin curtains, through which the summer air came freshly, gave
an appearance of lightness and purity which was exhilarating, and the chintz-covered furniture was tasteful and
elegant.
There is a wonderful charm about some homes. The
moment you enter them, you feel refreshed; while others,
with heavy magnificence, are sombre and uninviting.
Mrs. Springfield received them.
" We are happy to see you," she said; " but you should
have come earlier. The evenings are short."
"I said so to Mr. De Vane," said Waring, "but he lingered about the College campus, looking once more at the




DE VANE.                    245
scenes of his former triumphs, a little longer than we intended to do."
"Ah! Mr. De Vane," said Miss Godolphin, "you will
leave us? I shall not flatter you by saying how much we
shall regret you."
"If any thing," said De Vane, " could cheer me in leaving this place, it would be the thought that my absence
would be felt by any one."
"That is a very modest speech, Mr. De Vane," said Miss
Godolphin. "You must know, of course, how much we
shall lose in giving you up, especially at this season."
De Vane bowed, and said: "My absence will be but
for some three months-scarcely that, indeed; and I shall
hasten my return, in the hope of enjoying society which
has been so agreeable to me. My friend, Mr. Waring, is
to keep me informed, too, of movements here."
"Very well," said Miss Godolphin.; "we shall get our
accounts of you through him, and quite regularly, I hope."
"You are very good," said De Vane; " and I shall
promise myself the happiness of hearing, in the same way,
often from those of whom I shall think so constantly when
absent."
"Yes," said Waring, "I undertake to write faithfully
whatever is said to me here, and to report your messages."
"So that, is arranged," said Mrs. Springfield. "I am
very glad that it is so. In the mean while, we shall exert
ourselves to make the weeks pass as agreeably as possible."
" For my part," said Waring, " I take no pleasure in summer travel. To me it is much more agreeable to be at
home. This business of seeking pleasure is very irksome."
"How perfectly I agree with you!" said Esther. "Above.
all things, to rush into crowded hotels, or to stay at
thronged watering-places, is to me the. most wearisome
way of life that I have ever yet seen."
"Nothing short of dreadful," said Miss Godolphin.




246                   DE VANE.
"It is true," said Esther, "one meets very agreeable people at some of those places; but the manner of life is very,
very distasteful to me."
"Far better get a farm-house in the country, hid away
in some mountain gorge, where you hear the songs of birds,
the lowing of cattle, the clear human voice breaking the
stillness of the air; and see fruits, and flowers, and the
sweet face of nature; and get pure milk and fresh eggs,"
said Miss Godolphin, laughing.
" Your picture is a delightful one," said Waring.
" Yes," said Esther, "and a true picture. We found it
so last summer. To add to our comforts, too, we had
good horses, and could ride upon the side of the mountain,
or plunge into the clear, rushing stream-not too deep, but
yet suggestive of danger-and dash along the roads wincling through sequestered vales, without the fear of being
remarked about as too wild."' Glorious!" said De Vane. " And you ride on horseback, do you?"
"Ride!" said Esther. "Why, of course I do. Is not
that a part of the education of a Southern lady?"
"And yet I have never seen you," said he. " How
I have suffered the spring to glide by without making that
discovery."
"I do not ride in town-at least, very rarely," she
replied.
"And you ride, too, Miss Godolphin," said De Vane, "I
am to presume, after what Miss Wordsworth has said?"
"Certainly; and we intend to perfect ourselves in that
way during your absence, as the town will be pretty much
deserted."
"Pardon me, ladies," said De Vane; " I really supposed
that our mountain region only furnished rivals for Diana
Vernon. I am greatly pleased to make this discovery;




DE VANE.                   247
and when I return, I shall hope to join you. October is a
glorious month for equestrian exercise."
"Very well," said Miss Godolphin. " We shall hold ourselves in readiness, and you must prepare for break-neck
adventures, for we shall be fearless equestriennes by that
time."
"I hope, ladies," said Waring, " that you will, in the
mean while, permit me sometimes to join you."
" We shall be most happy," said Esther," to have you
with us."
"You are making my leave-taking, ladies," said De
Vane, "a harder task for me than it was before."
"Very well," said Miss Godolphin; "if gentlemen will
go on their summer rambles, we must seek what compensation we may."
She was very bright; and De Vane observed how much
more cheerful she was when in the presence of those who
were with her this evening, than when in larger and gayer
circles.
Mr. Springfield, who had been out riding, came in, and
all rose to meet him.
"I must ask you to pardon me," said he; "I rode somewhat farther than I intended, and was detained a little
while on the road."
"By nothing disagreeable to you, I hope?" said Mrs.
Springfield.
"I crossed the river," said he, "and upon my return,
just before I reached the ferry, I met young Walden, so
much intoxicated as to be unable to sit on his horse; and
I rode back with him to his mother's."
"Sad-sad!" exclaimed Waring. "I had hoped -that
he had reformed. I must look after him again."
"It is the vice of our times," said Mr. Springfield, "and
it must be arrested, or our young men will be destroyed."
Mrs. Springfield invited them to tea, and she conducted




248                    DE VANE.
them to the table. Mr. Springfield preferred the custom
of sitting at the table, even at the evening meal. For his
own part, he said, he enjoyed it more than any other; and
it was often, at his house, the most prolonged sitting of
the day. Boiled fowls, warm bread, cream, fruits, and
flowers made it an attractive meal; and De Vane sympathized so fully with Mr. Springfield's tastes, that he
enjoyed supper nowhere so much as at his house.
"This recalls," said Miss Godolphin, "so vividly our
way of living when we passed the summer in Switzerland. We took a cottage, and kept house regularly.
Never did we live so delightfully. The cream, the butter,
the fowls, the fruits, were delicious; and as the sun went
down behind the Alps, throwing shadows over us long
before night, we were accustomed to spread our table in
the little gallery, about which the shrubbery grew, and
take our evening meal. The lowing of herds and the
song of the mountaineers broke the solemn stillness of
the hour. Oh! how superior it was to life in Paris, or in
Florence, or in Naples! Nature, in her grandeur, and in
her simple beauty too, was about us, and there was nothing to remind us of the great, noisy, dusty, confused world."
"I can imagine it must be charming," said Mr. Springfield, "after your description. Such an episode in life I
wish very much, at some time, to enjoy myself."
"And you would not accept it as a permanent arrange-'ment?" she asked.
"Oh! no," he said. "What would become of one's
duties? If every one who could do it, chose some happy
retreat, where the sad voice of humanity could not disturb
his repose, what would become of our fellows? our kindred? of feebler pilgrims than ourselves, fainting by the
wayside, and wanting a strong arm to lift them up and
help them along the rough paths of life?"
Miss Godolphin looked at him earnestly, and Waring




DE VANE.                    249
observed De Vane's face beam as Mr. Springfield said
this, in that manly, direct way, which has nothing of cant
in it, and which makes every one instantly sympathize
with the sincerity of the speaker.
" But," he continued, " I should be very much pleased
to take such recreation as that, and it enters into my plans
for the future."
"Are there many, sir, who feel as you do?" asked Miss
Godolphin.
"Many, I trust," said he, " and, it is to be hoped, much
more intensely. How Howard transcends us all: traversing Europe-not to enter its palaces, or visit its picturegalleries, or linger in delightful retreats; but, in the language of Burke, to gauge the depths of human misery, to
let light and hope into dungeons, where they had long
been strangers!"
" His was a sublime life," said Waring. " I am disposed
to think, however, that there are many engaged in humane
and benevolent activities little known to us, many whose
lives are good and useful, without being grand."
"I do not doubt it," said Mr. Springfield. "It is in that
way that the harmony of life is made up, and that in its
completeness it grows into a resemblance of the widespread world of nature. Miss Godolphin, you must have
some of these peaches. Let me select you one."
"Thank you," said she. "They are very fine. This
country of ours abounds with luxuries."
"It is a goodly land," he said, " and this town is growing up into great beauty. Skirted, too, with its sand-hills,
we find summer retreats without going far from home."
"I observe," said Waring, " that they are building up
rapidly. The environs promise to be attractive. It would
not surprise me to see permanent residences built up on
our sand-hills."
II*




250                   DE VANE.
"That is already done," said Mrs. Springfield. " Some of
our friends intend to reside there permanently."
" It is much better to do so," said Mr. Springfield, " than
to migrate every summer. Home society should be cultivated, and an extended travel resorted to for health and
recreation."
"I am quite of your opinion," said Miss Godolphin.
Returning to the library, they found Mr. Clarendon
there, and upon Mrs. Springfield's expressing her regret
that she had not been informed of his coming, that he
might have joined them at the table, he said: "My dear
madam, I would not allow myself to be announced. I did
not even ring your bell, but entering, found the house
thrown open, and walked in unasked."
"You did just what you should have done," said Mr.
Springfield, "but you stopped too soon. Will you not
come now and take some fruit?"
He declined, and resumed his seat. The ladies gathered
about him, and an animated conversation commenced. He
was a welcome visitor everywhere. His large mind and
large heart were appreciated, and there was a blended
stateliness and warmth in his manners singularly captivating. His conversational powers, when he thought proper
to indulge them, fell but little short of his oratory. De
Vane resembled him in both respects, and the sympathy
between them was strong. Esther was his special favorite, and he often called to sit an hour with her.
" I feel myself slighted," said Mr. Clarendon, addressing
Esther and Miss Godolphin. "I am half inclined to think
that you invited these two young gentlemen to meet you
this evening, and overlooked me." He assumed the look
of an injured man, and laid his hand on Esther's arm.
"Of course we could never overlook you, Mr. Clarendon. It happened that we met at Mrs. Habersham's an
evening or two since, and it was arranged, before we sepa



DE VANE.                   251
rated, that we should meet here this evening. We are
very glad that you have done us the honor to join us."
"Then," said he, "these young gentlemen have no
rights here-this evening that I may not enjoy?"
"'None whatever," said Miss Godolphin.
Mr. Clarendon kissed the hand of each of them, and
said: "Then I offer my homage."
"Waring," said he, "is it true that De Vane is to set
upon his travels shortly?"
"He insists that he is serious in that purpose," said
Waring, " and I must say that his preparations begin to
look very much as if it were so."
" He has been trying to make that impression on me,"
said Mr. Clarendon, "for some weeks, but I have never
yet been able to bring myself quite up to the line of faith.
It must require a greater share of heroism than we usually
find in these degenerate times."
All laughed heartily, and De Vane said:
"You do not overestimate the task, Mr. Clarendon; but
I can not turn away from it, and I have therefore of late
addressed myself to it with what resolution I am able to
command."
" Telemachus quitting the island without being precipitated from it by his Mentor," said Mr. Clarendon.
There was no replying to this, and De Vane could only
bow his acquiescence.
"While seated here," said Mr. Clarendon, "I took up
the January number of the Edinburgh Review, Mr. Springfield. Do you find it a good one?"
"There is one article," he answered, "which I read with
interest. It is a notice of The Songs of Scotland, by Allan
Cunningham, and the writer proceeds to inquire into the
utility of poetry."
"As if it could be questioned," said De Vane.
" In this time of practical truth," said Mr. Clarendon,




252                    DE VANE.
"every thing is questioned which is not convertible into
gold and silver. Burke said long ago, the age of chivalry
is gone. That of sophists, economists, and calculators has
succeeded, and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever. How can you expect poetry to be esteemed as of
any value?"
"What a magnificent passage that is of Burke's!" said
De Vane. "The finest he ever uttered, I think."
"Very eloquent," said Mr. Clarendon.
"The picture of the young Queen of France, glittering
above the horizon like the morning star, is poetry, and
that too of a high order," said De Vane.
"Let us turn to it," said Mr. Springfield, taking down
from a shelf a volume of Burke's works; and handing it to
De Vane, he requested him to find the passage and read it.
He did so, with great effect.
" Glorious!" said Esther.
"Splendidly beautiful!" exclaimed Miss Godolphin.
" If Mr. De Vane will pardon me," said Mr. Springfield,
"I will say that I never before so fully appreciated it."
"Does the reviewer," said Mr. Clarendon, addressing
himself to Mr. Springfield, " vindicate the utility of
poetry?"
"Fully, it seems to me," he said. "I am particularly
pleased that he introduces Lord Bacon as an advocate for
it, who commends it as being subservient to the imagination-as logic is to the understanding-and says its office
is no other than to apply and commend the dictates of
reason to the imagination, for the better moving the appetite and will. The reviewer remarks, being an ally of real
son and logic therefore, according to Lord Bacon, it is not
to be despised."
" Good!" said Mr. Clarendon, "very good!"
"The authority of Lord Bacon is further cited," said
Mr. Springfield, " in this way: The end of poetry is to fill




DE VANE.                      253
tthe imagination with observations and resemblances which
may second reason, and not oppress and betray it, for these
abuses of art come in but ex obliquo, for prevention, not
for practice.  The reviewer adds:'All this being the
case, it seems that all speculations for putting down poetry
must necessarily be vain and useless. They are formed
perhaps for man as he ought to be, but certainly not for
man as he is. They are, in short, like that dream of Plato,
which has been a dream, and nothing more, for two thousand years. That celebrated Greek denied admittance to
a poet in his ideal republic, and his republic has remained
ideal."
" Excellently well put," said Mr. Clarendon; " and he
might have added the testimony of Swift, recorded in
verse:'Not empire to the rising sun,
By valor, conduct, fortune won;
Not greatest wisdom in debates,
Or framing laws for ruling states;
Such heavenly influence require,
As how to strike the muse's lyre.'"
"I was greatly interested, a few evenings since," said
De Vane, "in taking up a periodical, to find an article on
Milton, by Dr. Channing.  It is admirable throughout.
He says that those who are accustomed to think of poetry
as light reading, may think of the writings of Milton as
only contributions to public amusement, but that such
was not the thought of the great poet himself.  Of all
God's gifts of intellect, he esteemed poetical genius the
most transcendent.  He esteemed it in himself a kind of
inspiration, and wrote his great works with the conscious
dignity of a prophet.  Dr. Channing himself adds that
he agrees with Milton in his estimate of poetry.  The'
great New-England scholar unhesitatingly assigns to the
poetical faculty the first rank in his classification of the
intellectual powers."




254                   DE VANE.
"He has just written," said Waring, " a powerful paper
on Napoleon, and one which will repay the time expended
in reading it."
" It is drawn out," said De Vane, "by Sir Walter Scott's
life of the great captain."
"I have not yet read Scott's book," said Mr. Clarendon,
"but I must do so."
"It is conceived in no generous or magnanimous spirit,"
said De Vane; "nor do I think it even just. He is thoroughly imbued with the sentiment of those who made
war upon Napoleon, until they overthrew him."
" He should not have undertaken such a work," said Mr.
Springfield.
"But, ladies," said Mr. Clarendon, "we must know your
estimate of poetry. What do you say, Miss Godolphin?
Is Lord Byron right?"
"Of course," said she, "you would not expect me to
venture to oppose such authority as that of the great philosopher."
"You can not be excused," said Mr. Clarendon; "phi
losophers, heroes, statesmen, all yield to your sex."
" I agree, then," she said, " that the utility of poetry is
unquestionable; that it is charming, no one doubts."
And you, Miss Wordsworth, what say you? Are we
in this age to yield ourselves to the dominion of the imagination, or to retain our sober senses?"
"We. may do both, I think," said Esther. "Poetry of
the highest order, such as Milton's, is consistent with the
noblest of our faculties, and is but a felicitous expression
of the deductions of reason."
"I pronounce that opinion an end of controversy," said
Mr. Clarendon, "and I regret that I have no wreath to
crown you with."
Miss Godolphin was seated near De Vane, and breaking
from a vase near her a light vine brilliant with wild flow



DE VANE.                   255
ers, she twisted it into a wreath and put it into the hands
of De Vane, who, rising, laid it gently on the head of
Esther. It flung its crimson flowers about her curls, and
seemed to have been designed as an ornament for the brow
which it graced. Mr. Clarendon applauded, and Esther,
blushing deeply said: "I accept the wreath as a tribute
to poetry, of which I happened to speak with ardor."
"The wreath is yours fairly, and poetry is fortunate in
its representative. A crown was never more worthily bestowed," said De Vane in low tones, as he stood near her.
She made no reply, but a conscious expression flitted over
her features.
"I have sometimes been at a loss to determine," said
Waring, " whether poetry surpasses the arts in the power
of expression."
"It is a beautiful field of inquiry," said Miss Godolphin,
"and one might hesitate to decide between the contending claims of objects which so deeply interest us."
" I think with you, Miss Godolphin," said Mr. Clarendon; "it is one of those questions upon which a great
deal may be said on both sides. Any one who visits the
Louvre will find the power of art in expression so potent
as to awake emotions which are rarely appealed to elsewhere."
"But," said Esther, "can any thing equal the power of
language?"
"I thank you," said De Vane, " for that question; I was
about to ask it myself; for I can not believe that any art
can rival language in the power of expression-the language of passion, I mean, which poetry is."
" Now, Miss Godolphin," said Mr. Clarendon, " it becomes you to sit arbitress between these contending parties, for I believe you have not committed yourself."
"Not as yet," she said.
"Nor have I," said he; " but I incline to the arts."




256                        DE VANE.
"So do I," said Waring; " but it is not easy to decide
between objects of so much interest, as Miss Godolphin
felicitously says."
"I have never seen the original of the Dying Gladiator,"
said De Vane, "but there is in my home a very superior
copy, large and finely executed. My father brought it
from Rome.  I have often admired it, studied it, thought
that I entered into all the sentiments which it was intended to express, and I was profoundly affected by it. Some
time since, in reading Childe Harold, I found a description
of the scene which  art had essayed to  suggest, so far
transcending the work itself, which, mute yet powerful,
had awakened in me strong emotions, that I felt as if I
had never comprehended it before."
"Repeat the lines, if you please," said Mrs. Springfield,
who was deeply interested in the conversation.
De Vane bowed to her, and said: "I think I can recall
them:'I.see before me the gladiator lie:
He leans upon his hand; his manly brow
Consents to death, but conquers agony,
And his drooped head sinks gradually low;
And through his side the last drops, ebbing slow
From the red gash, fall heavy, one by one,
Like the first of a thunder-shower; and now
The arena swims around him-he is gone,
Ere ceased the inhuman shout which hailed the wretch who won.'He heard it, but he heeded not-his eyes
Were with his heart, and that was far away:
He recked not of the life he lost-nor prize;
But where his rude hut by the Danube lay,
There were his young barbarians all at playThere was their Dacian mother-he, their sire,
Butchered to make a Roman holiday:
All this rushed with his blood...'"




DE VANE.                    257
Miss Godolphin's eyes were liquid, and the tears rolled
down the cheeks of Esther.
" The lines are surpassingly fine," said Mrs. Clarendon,
whose eyes were moist.
"A finer illustration of the power of descriptive verse,"
said Mr. Springfield, "it would be hard to find."
"Indeed it would," said Waring.
"Now," said De Vane, "you observe the power of
poetry in expression. The sculptor represents a dying
man, full of manliness; the gash, the dripping blood, the
drooping head, are all seen. But the poet comes in, and he
invests the dying form- with the deepest moral interest.
The tenderest sympathies of our nature are appealed to.
The dying man is a father. By the distant Danube, his
boys, all unconscious of his fate, are at play; and their
Dacian mother, widowed already, does not know it, but
for long days will look for his coming, but look in vain."
Every one who heard him, exhibited emotion. Unconsciously, he threw the power of his own eloquence into
the description, and it was irresistible.
"I very well remember," said Mr. Clarendon, "to have
seen the statue; and I must confess that my sensibilities
were never touched as they have just now been by your
description."
"I saw it, too," said Miss Godolphin, "not a great while
since, and it never moved me as the words uttered by Mr.
De Vane have done. I looked at it as a work of art. Its
moral aspect had not occurred to me."
"It was injured at one time," said Mr. Clarendon. " The
right arm is a restoration by Michael Angelo."
" Still," said Waring, "what are the lines but a description of a work of art? Did not the statue awaken in a
man of genius the very sentiments it was intended to embody?"
"Oh! no," said De Vane, " the artist, it is believed, only




258                   DE VANE.
intended to express his idea of manly death; of a dying
man exhibiting all of life that was left in him, in its grandest form. The power of expression in the poetry far transcends that of the statue itself."
-" Walking one day," said Mr. Clarendon, " through the
Louvre, I entered the Spanish gallery, and my attention
was arrested by the figure of a prostrate man in deep
grief. I stood, and studied the painting; it was one of
great power; and it proved to be a representation of the
repenting grief of St. Peter. The conception of the artist
was a high triumph of genius. I had been accustomed to
depict the apostle as bowed down with the weight of his
grief, unable to lift his head, and his whole form prostrate.
This was the picture of my imagination. Not so that of
the Spanish painter. He represents St. Peter kneeling;
his body drooping forward, but the face upturned; as if
the eyes were seeking some revealing light which might
shed the faintest gleam over the darkness of his spirit;
and his mouth was open, the muscles toq much relaxed by
the anguish of his soul to support the lower jaw. The
hands were clasped, but not upraised; and the whole
expression was that of unutterable but not rayless grief.
Sorrow had deepened into agony, which could be expressed
in no way but by the attitude, the tears, the uplifted face
of the apostle, wounded by a look from his Lord. Now,
I had again and again read the account of the fall of St.
Peter, as it stands in the inspired record, and I had read,
too, what sacred poetry could utter in delineating it; but
none of its lines rivaled the simple, touching narrative
of the Evangelist, who informs us that when the Lord
turned and looked upon Peter, he went out and wept bitterly. Still, I must' say, that account, affecting as it is,
did not awaken in me the emotions excited by the picture
in the Spanish gallery of the Louvre."
Every one was moved by the statement of Mr. Claren



DE VANE.                      259
don.  His fine manner and extraordinarily earnest tones
made a deep impression.
"After all," said Mr. Springfield, "Miss Godolphin will
find it a hard task to decide between the power of poetry
and art."
"Oh! yes," said she, "I must decline it."
A servant entered with ices and fruits; and Mr. Clarendon said:
"We revel in luxuries this evening.  Poetry, the arts,
fruits, flowers, ices. The ancients never equaled us with
all their boasted civilization."
"I am  afraid that you will rouse my friend De Vane
into opposition again," said Waring, "if you exalt modern
civilization to any thing like equality with that of the
ancients."
"Ah! yes," said Mr. Clarendon; " but I shall put him
on the defensive this time, if he seeks strife; and until he
can cite some authority to show that any thing the ancients
possessed could rival these peaches, and this iced sherbet,
I shall decline to argue."
"Preferring, I suppose," said De Vane, "to enjoy the
gifts that come from the gods, without inquiring whether
they are partial in their favors."
"No," said Mr. Clarendon, "I have learned to prize
what I possess, and to live with contentment, imbued with
the spirit of those fine lines which your Professor of Moral
Philosophy at.the College sometimes quotes:'To be resigned when ills betide,
Patient when favors are denied,
Thankful for favors givenThis, dear Chloe, is wisdom's part,
This is that incense of the heart
Whose fragrance smells to heaven.'"
"Except," said De Vane, " in politics."




260                   DE VANE.
"Oh!" said Mr. Clarendon, "I meant to be understood
of the gifts bestowed upon our physical nature.. I fear
that I am any thing but contented with my lot in other
respects; and I am especially impatient under this prone
Administration, which, however, if it should please Heaven,
we shall soon expel."
"Things are looking well, then?"said Mr. Springfield.
"Everywhere, even in New-England," replied Mr. Clarendon; "and New-York is sure for us."
"I am anxious to see General Jackson," said Miss Godolphin. "I learn that he is a real hero."
"He is," said Mr. Clarendon, "in his character and his
exploits both."
"I have seen him," said De Vane. "He called at my
father's residence, just before I left home, on his return
from Washington, having gone some considerable distance
out of his way to confer with my father upon public affairs."
"Do describe him to us," exclaimed Miss Godolphin.
"His appearance impressed me. I was returning from
an evening's shooting and as I approached the house, I saw
standing by the side of my father, in the gallery of the
house, which was open to the western sky, a tall, somewhat
slightly-built gentleman, dressed in black. He was without a hat, and the declining light of the evening fell upon
his person. His hair, somewhat gray, stood up from his
forehead. He wore a pair of gold-framed glasses, and
another pair, thrown up above the forehead, rested on his
hair. His eyes, were piercing, and their fire could be read
through his glasses. The face and head were long; and
there was a character of unmistakable firmness seated upon
his features. As I approached the house, my father called
to me, and advancing, he presented me to General Jackson,
who received me with an air of courtly dignity. I was
very much impressed by the stately elegance of his manners, for I had expected to meet a rough Western soldier."




DE VANE.                   261
"Thank you," said Miss Godolphin. "You have heightened my interest in him."
"He is distinguished," said Mr. Clarendon, "for courtly
grace. There is said to be something very fascinating in
his manners."
Mr. Clarendon rose and took leave. Soon after, Miss
Godolphin's carriage was announced, and Waring accompanying her to it, and driving with her to Mrs. Habersham's, De Vane lingered a little while longer, as if reluctant to quit a place which had become so dear to him."
As he rose to leave, Mr. Springfield said to him:
" I hope we shall see you again, Mr. De Vane, before
you leave for Virginia."
"Yes, thank you," said he, "I shall call. It is my intention to start on Monday, and I shall call in the mean
while. Good night!"
He bowed very low, and walked away alone, saddened
by the thought of his coming leave-taking.




CHAPTER  XXII.
"FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate."
SHAKESPEARE.
To turn away from the presence of those who are dear
to us, even when it is believed that the separation will be
for but a few weeks, is no light task. The uncertainties
that attend us in life, at every step, admonish us that great
changes may occur before we tread again the same walks,
or wander through the same grounds, or seat ourselves in
old familiar spots; and the shadow of indefinable dread,
dread of we know not what, steals over our souls. Who
has turned away from home without pausing to look back,
to re-take upon the heart the tracery of the place in all its
features? Who has said " Farewell!" to one really loved
without looking earnestly, if but for a moment, into the
dear eyes, as if the soul might be read in their clear
depths? Who that has stood upon the vessel's deck, as
the swift winds bore it away from the shore, looking back
to see a loved form  growing fainter every moment, and
watching the fading away of the signals which are thrown
out to us when the voice can no longer speak what the
soul longs to utter-who has not felt how hard it is to say
FAREWELL? Who can say what may happen before we
meet again?  0 Life! what sadness there is in thy mutations! Who could read thy heart-history without sinking under its revelations? Nothing but trust-trust in the
constancy of those we love, trust in the unslumbering
(262)




DE VANE,                   263
watchfulness of Him who careth even for the sparrowcan comfort us. Are ye not of more value than many
sparrows?
On Saturday morning, De Vane called at Mr. Springfield's, to take leave of the family. Neither that gentleman
nor Esther was at home, but Mrs. Springfield was. De
Vane entered, and was informed by her that Mr. Springfield had gone a mile or two into the country, and that
Esther was passing the day at Leasowes.
He entered into conversation with Mrs. Springfield with
his accustomed freedom. His respect, his affection for her
-for he had learned to regard her with a sentiment which
was strong enough to be called affection-always made
him frank with her, when they were alone. Her fine, cultivated mind, and the refinement and gentleness which
gave an indescribable charm to her manners, made her a
most agreeable person to every one, but especially so to a
young, high-toned, ardent man, who could say to her much
that he would not utter to one less qualified to comprehend
and to sympathize with him.
"And you leave us on Monday, Mr. De Vane?" she
said.
"On Monday, madam, I am sorry to say. I have been
so long here, that I have learned to love this place, and I
can never feel at home anywhere else."
" Perhaps, when you re-visit Virginia," she said, "you
may find all your early attachments revive."
"No," said he, "that is impossible. If I had not changed,
it might be so; the impressions made upon me here might
give way to impressions which objects there will make.
But I myself am changed. I came here young, with views,
tastes, and habits formed in the midst of those who make
their own world, who lead a life so artificial as to unfit
them for,participating in the tasks of real life. Here I
have learned to look upon the world as it is; to compre



264                   DE VANE.
hend that the true grandeur of life does not consist in surrendering the soul to the frigid conventionalisms of society,
in the indulgence of exclusive ideas, but in the manly discharge of the great duties of humanity. Here my mind
has been awakened. My view of the world is as much enlarged as if the mists which heretofore allowed me to see
but a small part of the landscape had been swept away,
and the whole wide extent of hill and valley, and mountain and plain, sketched before me, flooded with the sunlight. I shall re-visit Virginia, but I shall never again be
the person I was when I took leave of my home to come to
this place."
He spoke with great animation. He had risen from his
seat, and unconsciously elevated himself to his full height.
Mrs. Springfield smiled. She saw with the highest satisfaction this irrepressible exhibition of the noble nature of
the young patrician, whose soul was asserting its right to
sympathy with the great world, and contending against
the restraints with which ancestral pride would bind it.
"Still, Mr. De Vane," she said, "you will find, upon
your return to the home of your youth, so much to interest
you, that it will be no easy task to tear yourself away
fiom it once more. At your age, we are ardent. We yield
a ready sympathy with those persons whose tastes are
agreeable to us, and who are actually present. The impressions made by other objects begin to fade, and we,
after a while, almost wonder that their influence over us
should have been so strong."
"Ah! madam," said De Vane, "you judge me by the
commonplace code of the world. I have no right to complain of it. You do not know me. But my own consciousness vindicates me from meriting any such accusation."
Mrs. Springfield saw that she had wounded him,'and she
hastened to assure him that she did not rank him with that




DE VANE.                   265
light class of young persons who change with the skies
under which they pass.
"You well know, Mr. De Vane," she said, "my estimate
of you. But you are about to undergo an ordeal the full
severity of which you yourself can not comprehend, until
yeu find yourself in the midst of the objects which will
appeal so powerfully to your affections, your tastes, your
ambition."
"Pardon me, madam," said De Vane, "I comprehend
all. You must remember that my aunt, Mrs. De Vane,
has kept me well informed of all that transpires at home.
She has all the while contributed what she could to
strengthen my early tastes, to remind me of the claims of
my family upon me, and to maintain over me the influence
of caste. I recall very vividly all the past. I have never
lost the vision of aristocratic splendor which filled my
youthful mind. But I assure you, that I myself have undergone a great change. The great world has been revealed
to me, and I can never unlearn what I have learned."
"Still," said Mrs. Springfield, " you must not forget that
the young Abyssinian Prince, after seeing the great world
as you have done, returned to his happy valley."
"True," said De Vane, "but that was because he saw
the world only as one views a panorama. He took no part
in it. It was not the actual, the living, breathing world
that he saw, but a succession of pictures. The world that
the young Prince saw was but little more than an exhibition of the paintings of the great masters. I have walked
through the actual world. I comprehend it. I disdain the
idle, luxurious life which our aristocracy lead. I intend to
take part in the real struggle of humanity, and strive to
help forward the crowded ranks who, like pilgrims, are
seeking some happier clime. There are tasks that must be
done. I am not unambitious, but I aspire to wear honors
won by own exertions. I could not content myself to sit
12




266                   DE VANE.
down and enjoy what better and truer men even than
myself had achieved for me."
Mrs. Springfield looked at him, with a respect and admiration that her face revealed, without replying immediately to what he had said.
He walked across the-floor, and stood before the portrait
of Esther. The morning light touched the picture, and the
canvas glowed with life. De Vane fixed his eyes on it,
and seemed unconscious of the presence of Mrs. Springfield.
He stood before it for minutes, absorbed, motionless. The
peerless beauty of Esther seemed to hold him entranced.
At length he breathed deeply, turned away from  the
picture, and resumed his seat without uttering a word.
Mrs. Springfield spoke. "How long do you suppose,
Mr. De Vane, you will be absent from us?"
"I propose," said he, "to return in October. I shall
acquaint my father with my wish to make my residence
in this place. It will require some little time to arrange
my affairs in Virginia; but so soon as I can dispose of
them, I shall return here. This is to be my home."
"We shall be very happy to have you with us, Mr. De
Vane," she replied.   You know our appreciation of you."
De Vane bowed. After some further conversation, he
rose to take leave.
"Will you not come to us this evening?" asked Mrs.
Springfield.
"With great pleasure, madam," he replied. "My friend,
Mr. Waring, will doubtless accompany me."
"We shall be most happy to see you," said Mrs. Springfield.De Vane walked away from the house. He greatly desired to see Esther alone, before leaving for Virginia. He
had no well-defined purpose in seeking a private interview, but still he was unwilling to quit the place without
conversing with her under'less restraint than he must be




DE VANE.                   267
subject to if he met her in the presence of others. He
directed his steps to Leasowes. Entering the grounds, he
walked directly to the cottage. Mrs. Green received him.
Esther was not in, but Mrs. Green informed him that she
was somewhere in the grounds; that she had taken Mary
Sinclair with her, and walked out some half-hour since.
De Vane went in search of her. He turned his steps toward the fountain; and as he approached it, he saw Esther
and little Mary seated side by side. Esther instantly rose
to meet him.
"Pardon me," said De Vane, "for trespassing upon you,
Mliss Wordsworth. You know that ~I leave for Virginia
on Monday, and I could not tear myself away without once
more visiting Leasowes. The place has become very dear
to me."
"You know, Mr. De Vane," she replied, "how welcome
you are here. You are never an intruder."
"Thanks," said De Vane. "There is no spot in the
world that I visit with so much pleasure."
Esther rewarded him with her brightest smile. She
invited him to be seated. "No," said he. "If agreeable
to you, let us walk through the grounds. It will be some
months before I can enjoy that privilege again."
Esther took Mary by the hand, and they turned their
steps toward the cottage. She excused herself for a moment, and entering the house with the little girl, she presently returned alone, with her hat, and a light shawl
thrown about her shoulders.
"Come, Mr. De Vane," she said, "let us see what improvements Jacob has been projecting since you were
here."
They turned their steps toward the more highly cultivated parts of the grounds. They were in their full glory.
Brilliant flowers grew in the midst of the beds.  The
rarest and most beautiful shrubbery fringed the walks,




268                   DE VANE.
and the highest taste was displayed in the arrangement of
the grounds. One might lose himself in the labyrinthine
walks.
"Really," said De Vane, " this place is enchanting. It
wants only statuary to make it perfect."
"It has occurred to me," said Esther, "to place some
few statues in some parts of the grounds. If I should ever
visit Europe, I may then make the selections."
" Visit Europe you certainly will," said De Vane.
"With your tastes, Miss Wordsworth, you can not resist
the attractions that such a tour offers."
"I do not know, Mr. De Vane," she replied. "There is
so much to bind me here, that I can not hope very soon to
gratify my tastes."
" You wrong yourself, Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane.
"Your life must not be passed in this way."
Esther turned upon him her full glance.
" Have you forgotten, Mr. De Vane, the obligations that
rest upon me?"
"Oh! no," he answered; " but surely, all the brightness
of your life is not to be obscured in this spot, beautiful as
it is."
"I have no fixed plans for the future," said Esther;
"none beyond the simple performance of duties which are
too sacred to be neglected."
" You will, I trust, take brighter views of life," said De
Vane. " The tasks which you perform here are beautiful;
and I should be uncandid if I did not say, that my admiration is yielded to you as it has never been to any one,
when I see you at Leasowes. Still, I should be very sorry
to know that all your days were to be passed here."
He turned to Esther as he uttered these words, and his
face revealed even more than his language had disclosed.
He fixed his ardent gaze upon her, as if his soul would




DE VANE.                   269
utter its emotions in a glance, while the lips refused to
breathe the passion which fired it.
Esther was deeply agitated. This frank declaration of
his admiration for her, just uttered by De Vane, startled
her. She made no reply.
"Yes, Miss Wordsworth," he continued, "I am too selfish to wish to see you always engaged as you now are,
beautiful as the tasks that employ you must be acknowledged to be by all who can appreciate the high qualities
that prompt you to discharge them.  I am too selfish
for that. I would appeal to you, too, in behalf of the
great world.  You must help to make that brighter.
You must walk through it, that other eyes may see you
and bless you."
"I thank you, Mr. De Vane," at length Esther said, " for
all your kindness. Here I feel that I am safe. These
duties have.been enjoined upon me in a way that renders
it impossible to disregard them. I am a little afiaid of
the great world of which you speak.", She spoke with trembling earnestness; and as she uttered these words, she looked into the face of De Vane,
with a gentleness so perfect, and a truthfulness so clear,
that he felt as if he walked by the side of a being who, if
not celestial, had at least the purity of those whose robes
have never been sullied by the dust of the world's
crowded ways.
They walked on for some moments in silence. Their
walk conducted toward the -gate that opened into the
town.'The silence was at length broken by De Vane.
" Miss Wordsworth," he said, "I know the frankness of
your nature. I am about to speak to you freely-as freely
as I am at liberty to do at this moment. As you know, I
am just now about to re-visit my home-the home of my
youth-my ancestral, home. But it is my fixed purpose
to return here; and if I can secure the approval of my




270                   DE VANE.
father, I shall make this my residence. Separated from
you for some weeks to come, as I must be, I will not withhold the expression of my great regard for you. A purer
friendship never warmed the heart of any man than that
which I cherish for you. May I hope that you will not regard me with entire indifference, and that you will permit
me to call you my friend?"
Esther colored deeply. She hesitated for a moment,
and then said with a steady voice:
"Yes, Mr. De Vane, I am  sincerely your friend. I
should be ungrateful if I were not so."
"Thank you," said De Vane. "There is surely no consideration that can entitle me to your gratitude, Miss
Wordsworth. It is I who should speak of gratitude.
You have shed a brightness over my life. But I do not
like the word. I am speaking of friendship. I should
prize your friendship unspeakably."
"I have already said to you, Mr. De Vane," said Esther,
"that I am your friend. For yourself and Mr. Waring, I
entertain a sentiment that certainly deserves the name;
and as the circle of my friends is not very large, I prize
those who belong to it."
De Vane was a little disappointed in this reply. He
regarded Waring as he did no other man on earth; but to
hear Miss Wordsworth associate him with himself in one
common sentiment of friendship, was a little chilling to
him. Still he could not complain of it; nor could he- make
any explanation. He had not spoken of love. That was
quite another thing. He dared not speak of it. He well
knew the settled purpose of General De Vane; his aristocratic tastes, his ancestral pride, his hopes of his son, his
plans of life for him. He comprehended, too, Mrs. De
Vane's tastes, prejudices, preferences, pride, and ambition.
All this rose before him at the moment. Could he disregard it? Was he to make a rash declaration of love to




DE VANE.                   271
a young girl who walked by his side in her maidenly
purity, belonging to a class so widely different from the
aristocratic circle in which he had been reared?
The surges of his passion swept furiously against the
restraints that he placed on himself. Like the North Sea
dashing against the dykes of Holland, his passion shook
the barriers that kept it back. Would the wild waves
break over the obstructions? It seemed impossible to
shut them out. DeVane burned to know the real sentiments of Esther respecting him. Did she love him? Or
was it only friendship? What would he give to resolve
the doubt! There stood the young priestess, glowing
with almost unearthly beauty. Was she cold?  Or did
the hidden flame of passion burn in the deep of her soul?
They had reached the gate. Unconsciously they both
stood, and they were silent.
De Vane struggled with his passion. What right had
he to ask this young bright being who stood by his side
to speak to him of love? Would he darken her woman's
sky?  Would he humiliate her by inviting her to walk
with him through life, when she must encounter the scorn
of his imperious father, the reproaches even of his aunt?
He was by no means sure of the state of Esther's heart.
She might regard him simply as a friend. He could not
trifle with her. He had too much principle to make an
experiment of such a nature as would induce her to reveal
her real sentiments, without being ready to bind himself
to her, if she were willing, by an indissoluble engagement.
His own pride, his lofty sense of honor, his profound respect for Esther-all made it impossible that he should advance a single step beyond the line that he had reached.
The struggle was over. PRINCIPLE had triumphed over
PASSION.
"I thank you, Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, " for
having admitted me to the circle of your friends. I shall




272                   DE VANE.
bear with me to Virginia the consciousness that, in quitting these happy grounds, I leave behind me one who
will sometimes recall the hours that we have passed
together in these walks."
" Yes, Mr. De Vane, you may rest assured that I am
your friend," said Esther.
"And when I return, may I reenter this portal," said
De Vane, " confident that I shall still find a friend here?"'
" You need not doubt it," said Esther. "I am not subject to change."
" Thank you," said De Vane, "thank you."
They passed through the gate into the great world.
In the evening, De Vane and Waring walked to Mr.
Springfield's. They were expected.
Every thing was arranged with perfect taste, and the
rooms wore their most cheerful aspect. Mrs. Springfield,
with womanly tact, sought to surround De Vane, on this
last evening, with bright objects-objects that he would
recall with pleasure after his departure. Flowers, fruits,
and the innumerable pleasing things that belong to such a
household, were in profusion. The supper was an abounding one.
After it was ended, all assembled in the library, and
engaged in cheerful conversation.
"So, Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Springfield, "you will
leave us. We shall regret your absence, and hope that
you will return to us as early as possible."
"You may rest assured of that, sir," said De Vane.
"The journey will, of course, consume some time; and as
I intend to fix my residence here, it will require some
weeks to put my affairs in Virginia in such a condition
that I may leave them."
"It is quite settled, then, is it," asked Mr. Springfield,
"that you will make this your future home?"
" So far as I can settle it," said De Vane, "the question




DE VANE.                   273
is disposed of. I anticipate great opposition to my plan
on the part of my father. He is very decided, I may say
inflexible, upon most subjects; but I do not despair of being able to obtain his consent that I may fix my residence
here. I hold that questions of that kind are to be disposed of by every one for himself. They concern our happiness too much to suffer us to submit them to the decision
of others."
"I quite agree with you," said Mr. Springfield. "I
think that all such matters are to be decided by one's self.
In the light of all the surroundings, certainly the wishes
of friends are not to be disregarded; but after all, we can
only determine for ourselves what will be agreeable to us."
"So I think," said Waring.   I would not live in a palace on compulsion. It would be but a splendid prison."
"So say I," said De Vane. "Spleidor-is nothing without liberty. And with my views of life, to compel me to
sit down upon -a plantation in Virginia and see my slaves
toil for my benefit, adding year after year to the increase
of an estate already too large, would be intolerable. They
write to me about the glories of such an existence; they
describe in glowing terms the society, made up of the best
blood of the country, of the sports which are introduced
to break the monotony of country life; but really they
have failed to awaken in me any desire to lead such a life."
"It must be admitted," said Mr. Springfield, " that such
an existence seems to ignore the higher objects of our
being."
"Not only so," said Waring, "but I should die from
ennui.
"Yes," said De Vane, "I firmly believe that some degree of labor is essential to happiness. For my own part,
my mind is quite made up to make my own living. I intend to labor; to have the honest consciousness, when I
see the sun descending behind the western sky, that I have
12*




274                    DE VANE.
contributed by my own exertions to pay my own way in
the world. In no other way could I feel that I was a
man."
All smiled at the energy with which De Vane uttered
these words.
" What will General De Vane say to all that?" asked
Waring.
" Of course he will object," said De-Vane. "But I lhave
one appeal to make to him-I shall lay before him my
views, my plans, my sentiments, my hopes, my principles.
For, after all, with me this is a principle, and I shall remind him that he chose his own path in life; he fixed his
residence just where he pleased. Therefore, I may well appeal to his sense of right, to allow me to do the same
thing. His ancestral pride will give way before his strong
sense of right and his manliness."
" I certainly hope so," said Waring. " We shall await
the result of your visit with great anxiety. I say we, for
you have friends here beside myself, who will be profoundly interested in your return."
De Vane could not resist the impulse which prompted
him to look toward Esther. Her face was glowing.
"Yes," said Mrs. Springfield; " Mr. De Vane well knows
that he has friends here, and I trust that he will count this
household among the number."
"A thousand thanks, madam, for the assurance," said
De Vane, with emotion. " I shall often recall this spot in
my travels, and whatever I may meet in Virginia, nothing
-can efface the happy memories that must be forever associated with it."
The evening advanced. De Vane did not ask for music.
He was too sad to wish to hear it. Esther felt a great
relief at being spared the performance. For, though she
had not analyzed her heart, she was conscious of an interest in I)e Vane too deep to permit her to associate him




DE VANE.                  275
with any of the comimonplace things of life. If she sang,
her emotion would be too visible. Indeed, to ask her to
do so would be like calling on the Jewish maiden to take
her harp from the willows, and strike its chords with,joyous notes, in the midst of her exile.
The hour for leave-taking came. De Vane was seated
near Mr. Springfield. He rose and extended his hand to
that gentleman, thanking him for all his kindness.
"I am indebted to you, sir, for many happy hours," said
he. "I promise myself a long enjoyment of such scenes
hereafter."
"God bless you, sir!" said Mr. Springfield. "We shall
all welcome you upon your return."
De Vane turned to Mrs. Springfield, and said: " To you,
madam, I do not know how to express my thanks. You
have done so much for me, that I shall always regard you
as associated with my best and happiest days. Farewell,
madam!"
Mrs. Springfield gave him her hand, and said: " Farewell, Mr. De Vane. Come to us again as soon as possible."
Esther had risen from her seat.  She stood self-possessed, and yet her eyes were lit with all the ardor of her
soul. De Vane advanced to her, took her hand, stood for
a moment silent, and then said: " Miss Wordsworth, farewell!" Esther said not a word.
Waring said " Good-night!" to the group, and walked
to the door. De Vane turned for a moment, made a stately bow, and then passed out.
The door closed on the young patrician! Shall he ever
enter it again? TIME and the FUTURE alone can reveal
his destiny!








DE VANE:
PLEBEIANS AND PATRICIANS.
BY
IoN. HENRY W. HILLIARD,
EX-MEMBER OF UNITED STATES HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES FROM ALABAMA.
"The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that."
BURNS.
Buas.
TWO VOLUMES IN ONE.- VOL. II.
BLELOCK & COMPANY, i9 BEEKMAN STREET.
1 8  




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
HENRY W. HILLIARD,
in the Clerk's Offica of the District Court of the United States, for the Southern District
of New-York.
JoHN A. GRAY & GREEN,
Printers,
16 & 18 Jacob Street, New-York.




DE VANES
& Sorn of
PLEBEIANS AND PATRICIANS.
CHAPTER I
"FAST silent tears were flowing,
When something stood behind 
A hand was on my shoulderI knew its touch was kind."
RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES.
THE flying post-horses dashed away from Mrs. Bowen's
door-four superb blood bays; and the driver's French
horn poured a loud and cheerful blast upon the morning
air. The coach bore De Vane away. Five other passengers were seated with him, and much as he regretted to
quit a place, unspeakably dear to him, there was a degree
of exhilaration imparted to him by the rapid motion of the
dashing coach and four.
Waving his hand to Waring, he was gone. Would he
return? Would he withstand the appeals of his aunt?
Could he prevail on his father to yield to his wish to make
his home in that Southern town? Or would he feel the
rekindling of early passion, submit himself to the sway of
(279)




280                   DE VANE.
ambition, and remain in his ancestral home? Who could
say? Waring was sad, for he was very strongly attached
to his young friend. He saw in him grand qualities, and
capabilities for high tasks.
Esther went as usual to Leasowes. She walked slowly;
but she did not stop by the way. Whatever may have
been her emotions, she resolutely walked forward to her
duties. Assembling about her the little girls, she read to
them the Scriptures, and then kneeling, read one of those
prayers prepared for such occasions by.a woman eminent
for her piety and her learning. All the morning shepassed
with them, directed their pursuits, and gave them some
instructions in drawing. Then, joining them in their midday meal, she spoke to them of those subjects which she
knew would interest them.
Soon after, Mrs. Springfield called for her, and entering
the carriage, they drove away. At Esther's suggestion,
they visited a poor family in the sand-hills, and returning,
called at Mrs. Gildersleeve's. Esther requested Mrs. Springfield to leave her there, saying that she would be at home
by evening; and her aunt drove away, comprehending her
feelings.
When Esther came in the evening, she was very calm,
and spoke of her visit. " I found Mrs. Gildersleeve," she
said, "quite cheerful. She is beginning to take an interest
in the things that engaged her formerly, and she has a'
niece with her, just arrived-a nice little girl."
"I am glad to hear it,"said Mrs. Springfield. " She has
been very desolate since the death of Eva."
"Oh! yes," said Esther. "I have grieved for her. She
is comfortable, too, and finds her needlework ample for her
support."
"That is fortunate," said Mrs. Springfield. "Occupation
is essential to happiness, and Mrs. Gildersleeve is too proud
to accept from others any thing beyond what she needs."




DE VANE.                   281
": I thought the sand-hills appeared attractive to-day,"
said Esther. "Warm as the weather is, the clear streams
and the spreading shade-trees were inviting. I think we
might find it agreeable to pass our summers there."
"Mr. Springfield thinks of it," she replied; "and we
must select a pleasant site, if he should decide to make it
a:summer home."
"Let it be in a valley," said Esther, " by a clear stream,
and not on a hill. I do not admire hills for residences. And
we shall then be able to command the comforts that are
essential to a country home."
Mr. Springfield came in, and the subject was further
discussed.
" I think," said he, "that I might prefer to build on the
other side of the river, some twelve miles from the town.
There we should find the finest water, extraordinary facilities for bathing, the purest air, and good society."
"Is it not too far?" asked Mrs. Springfield.
"Oh! no," he said. "We should furnish our summer
house, and go to it; and return whenever we found it
agreeable."
It was decided that they should at some time visit the
place, and see what it offered in the way of advantages for
a summer residence.
So far, the name of De Vane had not been uttered by
any one of the family. Mrs. Springfield forbore to do so,
from consideration for Esther; and yet she did not doubt
that, while the conversation turned upon other subjects,
thfe thought that filled the heart of her niece was in some
way associated with him.
The sun had gone down, and the still twilight had succeeded-twilight, that brings with it so many memories.
How full of self-searching is that space which divides
day from night-neither day nor night; shadowy, quiet,
dreamy; too late to carry on the business of the day, too




282                   DE VANE.
early to kindle the lights for the night! In the town, the
noise of business lulls, and occasional sounds only are heard,
the roll of wheels at intervals, or the tread of passers-by
on the sidewalk seeking their homes; in the country, the
buzz of insects, the lowing of cattle, the song of the herdsman. Even from the days of the patriarchs, the hour has
invited to repose. Isaac went out to meditate in the field
at the eventide.
Esther retired to her own chamber. The blinds were
open, the serene summer sky was spread out before her —
the sky which she had often looked up to, standing by the
side of De Vane. There was the opal hue which he so
much admired, and burning in the midst of it was the
evening-star, lustrous, as if just kindled for the first time
in the firmament by some celestial messenger, as the promise of some new advent of love to a sin-stricken world.
Esther gazed upon it in deep musing. She felt very lonely,
and for the first time since De Vane's departure tears stole
into her eyes, and soon she wept as if the very fountains
of her nature were broken up. Never before had she wept
in this way. She bowed her head upon the bed, and poured
out her soul. Presently she started; a hand was laid upon
her shoulder, and looking up, she saw Mrs. Springfield.
I-Her aunt took a chair near her.  Esther laid her head
in her lap, like a little child, and wept without restraint.
Mrs. Springfield said nothing for some time. Her own
tears came to her eyes, but she checked them. At length
Esther became more tranquil, and Mrs. Springfield said to
her:
" My child, may I not know what makes you unhappy?"
For some moments Esther made no reply. She then
threw her arms around Mrs. Springfield's neck, and kissed
her.
"Has any thing been said to you, Esther, to make you
unhappy?"




DE VANE.                   283
"Oh! no, no!' she replied. "Nothing, nothing; but I
felt to-day weary and sad, and I could not restrain my
tears when this quiet hour came on."
"Esther, my own child," said Mrs. Springfield, "are
you disappointed? Is your heart wounded?"
She rallied instantly. The very thought that any one,
even her aunt, should suppose that she had been disappointed in her hopes, roused her. The thought that any one
should suppose, even for a moment, that De Vane was
capable of wounding her, appealed to her spirit in a way
that made it impossible she could weep any longer.
" No, aunt," she said, " neither disappointed nor wounded. I was oppressed with a sense of loneliness, which you
will easily comprehend."
"I do comprehend it, my child," she said. "But I can
not express my admiration of the-nobleness of Mr. De Vane
in returning to Virginia as he has done, under a sense of
duty which alone could take him away. I comprehend his
feelings too, for I saw him when you did not, under circumstances which revealed his heart quite as plainly as if
he had told me all he felt."
Mrs. Springfield then related to Esther what had taken
place when De Vane called on Saturday morning. His
emphatic statement of his purpose to return to the town in
October and fix his residence there, his earnest utterance
of his views of life, and his standing in fixed and unconscious gaze upon her portrait. Esther felt the light of
morning already spreading over her soul, and once more
embracing her aunt, she kissed her tenderly.
Mrs. Springfield had acted with as much tact as delicacy. She saw Esther's depression. She well knew why
she sought solitude as the evening came on, and she wished
to assure her of her sympathy, without wounding her sensibility, or drawing from her any disclosures which she
might not freely wish to make. She knew that she could




284                   DE VANE.
trust every thing to Esther, but she knew too what a relief it would be to her to know that in herself she had not
only a friend who would counsel in the affairs of every-day
life, but who could sympathize with those emotions which
are of far higher moment with all properly-organized natures than any or all of those things which the world calls
real.
Mrs. Springfield left her alone and descended to the
library, where Esther joined her before a great while,
without any visible traces of the recent tears. Waring
came in, and was warmly welcomed. All were pleased to see
him, and with that subtle perception of proprieties which
belongs to fine natures, he exerted himself to be cheerful,
and to make others so. Without any false delicacy, he
went directly to the subject which he knew really was the
one of interest with his friends.
"Well, Mrs. Springfield," he said, "I am deserted and
desolate; my  icldus Achates has gone."
"Really gone!" said Mrs. Springfield. "We shall all
sympathize with you, for we found his society very agreeable."
"Yes," said Mr. Springfield, "I became very strongly
attached to Mr. De Vane; his fine mind and noble nature
refreshed me. Do you suppose that he will carry out his
purpose and made this his residence?"
" It is his purpose, undoubtedly, to do so," said Waring.
"He is perfectly settled in it, and his firmness is great when
he once takes a position. There is so much of the heroic
in him, that resistance only rouses his strength. But he is
about to pass through a very severe ordeal. Returning to
the home of his youth, early impressions may be revivified.
The slumbering pride of ancestral state and consideration
may be awakened, and the sense of duty which is so powerful in him may bring him to yield his wishes to those of
General De Vane. Still, his wishes are so strong, his attach



DE VANE.                   285
ment to this place so deep, and his love of independence so
uncompromising, that I have great hope of his coming
back to ns."
"General De Vane," said Mr. Springfield, "is, I have
learned, extreme in his aristocratic tastes and opinions.
Perhaps few, even in Virginia, carry them so far, and I can
hardly suppose that he will consent for his son to leave
him, and especially to come here and enter upon a laborious- profession."
"Yes," said Waring, "it is very much to be feared
that he will never giye his consent to that. He is very
wealthy, and there is no necessity for any exertion on the
part of his son; but he will never induce George De Vane
to lead the life of an idle man. A more powerful organization for working I never saw. I mean, I never knew any
man whose taste for occupation was stronger, or whose
scorn for indolence was more intense. No wealth could
tempt him to drift through life, and his love of his race
is such, that a stiff, formal social system can never hold
him. We feel his absence, and yet I'll venture to say that
there are some two or three laboring men in the town who
fancy that no one can regret him as they do-Hobbs, for
instance, the blacksmith. I think it quite likely that tears
may have washed away some of the coal-dust from his face
when De Vane bade him good-by, for he did call at his
shop to shake hands with him on Saturday."
" He's a noble fellow," said Mr. Springfield.
"I trust that he will become a Christian," said Mrs.
Springfield. "A large heart like his would be very happy
if full of love to the Lord, who gave his own life for him."
" I regret," said Mr. Springfield, " that he is skeptical."
"He can not be said to be so," said Waring, "in the
common acceptation of that word. He is full of doubt, but
his earnest nature illumines the very clouds which surround




286                         DE VANE.
him, and he is too warm  to content himself with the frigid
rationalism  which satisfies some minds."
"I rejoice to hear you say so," said Mr. Springfield.
"I regret," said Waring, " more than I can express, that
De Vane is not a Christian.  He is just now bewildered
with the mists of neology.  The Germans, by their luminous vapors, have involved him, but his strong, earnest nature will make its way out of them.  I love him  so much,
that, while I can not claim him as a believer, I do claim
him as a disciple of the principles of Christianity. He reminds me of Abou Ben Abhem  in the exquisite poem  of
Leigh Hunt.
"I have not seen it," said Mr. Springfield.
"Do repeat the lines for us, Mr. Waring," said Mrs.
Springfield.
Esther had said nothing, but her eyes were fixed on
Waring, as her aunt made the request, with eager interest.
He observed it, and looking at her, uttered the lines:
"ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold.
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said:'What writest thou?' The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered:' The names of those who love the Lord.''And is mine one?' said Abou.' Nay, not so,'
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still, and said:'I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'
The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again, with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest."




DE VANE.                    287
" It is exquisite!" exclaimed Esther.
" Perfectly beautiful!" said Mrs. Springfield. "We are
obliged to you for making us acquainted with it."
"And for giving us such hope of our young friend Mr.
De Vane," said Mr. Springfield.
"It reminds me," said Esther, "of our discussion as to
the comparative merits of poetry and the arts. If Mr.
De Vane were here, I think he would insist that the poem
which you have just repeated does much toward establishing his proposition in favor of the power of poetical
description."
Waring smiled. "I had no idea," said he, "that I was
furnishing an argument against myself."
" But you must admit," said Esther, "that it is a powerful one. Could any painting, or piece of sculpture, teach
the beautiful lesson which the poem does, so exquisitely
and so briefly?"
"I shall decline all argument upon that point," said
Waring, " until I can bring in my allies, Miss Godolphin
and Mr. Clarendon."
"That is yielding the field," said Esther, "for I am all
alone; at: least, the only ally who was with me in our
late contest is absent."
" I shall report to him," said Waring, "in my first letter,
how gallantly you maintained the position."
" And do give him our best wishes," said Mr. Springfield.
"And assure him of our regrets at his absence," said
Mrs. Springfield.
" I shall make him very happy in doing so," said Waring~. i...
"Have you seen Miss Godolphin very lately?" asked
Esther."Not since I met her here," said Waring.  "I think
that Mirs. Habersham is about to go to her place in the
country."




288                    DEVANE.
"Some four miles from  town," said Mr. Springfield.
"It is a place of great beauty, and I do not wonder at
their retreating to it, though the health of the town is
excellent."
"I have never seen it," said Waring.
"But you will visit it now, of course," said Mrs. Springfield, playfully.
"I shall be so much engaged with books," said Waring
pleasantly, "that I shall have but little leisure for the
ladies. Still, if Miss Wordsworth will accompany me, I
shall be ready to visit so interesting a person as Miss
Godolphin."
"Of course," said Esther, "I could not refuse to contribute to your happiness in that way. When shall we
go?"
"I must first ascertain," said Waring, "if they have
gone."
"And, of course, in pursuing so important an inquiry,
you will not intrust any thing to an agent, but will call
in person. Otherwise I should offer to look into the affair
myself."
"Do, Miss Wordsworth," said Waring, "and then arrange the time of our excursion, and I shall feel quite
obliged."
"Very good," said Esther. "I am very prompt, and
will call to-morrow morning."
"Thanks," said Waring.
"She is," said Mr. Springfield, " a person of extraordinary attractions, and I do not wonder,,Mr. Waring, that
you should wish to visit her. I find her really fascinating.
When she was with us, a few evenings since, she displayed
wonderful resources."
"She is a superior person," said Waring,' in every way.
Her intellect, her character, her accomplishments, and her
beauty, are all of rare perfection.  She is, too, so earnest,




DE VANE.                     289
that it is impossible not to feel an interest in her. I can
not feel any thing like a deep interest in any one who
lacks depth of character. Miss Godolphin has it."
"She has," said Esther.  " Her nature is a very earnest
one, and I find myself powerfully attracted by her. We
must visit her, Mr. Waring."
"I shall always be at your service," he said; "and when
she returns to town, in October, we can arrange a plan for
seeing her often."
The mention of October seemed to give general satisfaction.
"How refreshing it is," said Mrs. Springfield, "to look
forward to the fall! It is to me the most agreeable of the
seasons."
"Oh! incomparably so," said Esther.  "I love autumn,
and hail it as the crowning glory of the year."
"I must express my preference for spring," said Mr.
Springfield.
Spring," said Waring, "is beautiful, full of delights,
and rich in promise; but I must agree with Miss Wordsworth in her preference for autumn."
"I enjoy spring," said Mrs. Springfield, " from sympathy with my husband's tastes.  I have often seen him rejoice in the opening spring with the gladness of a boy.":" I do love its promise, and catch the joy with which it
fills all nature, animate and unconscious nature," said Mr.
Springfield.
"But," said Esther, "the autumn brings the matured
promise; the ripened fruits, the waving harvests, and
many-colored leaves, which give such a mellow beauty to
the aspect of nature. Then one feels a languor in spring;
but in autumn the air invigorates, and the bright, frosty
mornings, when the crisp leaves crackle under your feet,
impart an elasticity to your spirits, which is never experienced at any other season,"
13




290                   DE VANE.
"And does not the decay of nature sadden you?" said
Mr. Springfield.
"At times one does feel, when looking upon the falling
leaves, and hearing the solemn winds breathing through
the ever-green pines, a touch of melancholy sympathy
with nature; but there are so many autumnal glories that
you forget the sadness, and wrap yourself up gladly to
walk out under the sparkling stars, which seem to grow
brighter in the cool air. Then, too, enjoying the ripened
fruits, and seeing gathered harvests, and drawing near the
early fires, you anticipate the magnificence of winter."
"Now, Mr. Springfield," said Waring, "Miss Wordsworth sings the glories of autumn in a way to make one
enjoy it. It is, I am happy to know, not a great way off,
and we shall expect to see her grow very bright when her
favorite season revisits us."
Esther looked up at him quickly, but she could detect
no mischief in his composed features, and she said: "I
hope we shall all be bright and happy."
"Poets," said Mr. Springfield, "sing the glories of the
varying year. -But Esther, I believe, is consistent; she has
from her childhood, by a sort of perverseness it may be,
rejoiced in the fall of the year."
" Ever since I saw the first crimson leaf from a sweet
green tree, in the early autumn, and the red dogwood
berries sprinkled with frost," she said.
" When are we to take our equestrian excursions," said
Waring, " which we arranged some little time since?"
"Oh! I must look after that to-morrow, when I see Miss
Godolphin," said Esther. "She is said to ride superbly."
"If she can excel you, Esther," said Mr. Springfield,
"she must indeed be accomplished. Do you know, Mr.
Waring, that last summer she dashed away from me in
that wild mountain region of Virginia, and defied me to
follow her?  I actually found it at times difficult to keep
She saddle."




DE VANE.                   291
" I did not know she was so wild," said Waring. " Who
would have supposed it?"
"Get her over into the country," said Mr. Springfield,
"and she becomes transformed."
" I fear," said Esther, " that you will frighten Mr. Waring, and that he will refuse to accompany me."
"I only wish to put him on his guard," said Mr. Springfield, " so that he may be sure of his horse, and tighten
his girths."
"I am a good horseman," said Waring, " and I shall
prepare myself. There are some hedges in the neighborhood, and any number of rail fences."
"My horse," said Esther, "has not yet arrived. He is
at the plantation, enjoying otium cum ditnitate, literally.
No human being is allowed to use him except my own
servant, who has charge of him. I must have him sent
to me."
"And is he active and fleet?" asked Waring.
"Both," said Esther, " or I should not have named him
Manfred."
"I must provide myself, then, with his equal; for I do
not intend to be outridden by any young lady in all the
State."
" Until Manfred arrives, my uncle will, I am sure, let
me have his horse."
" Oh! yes, my dear Esther, with pleasure, provided you
reserve your dashing adventures until Manfred does arrive.
I am suited in a saddle-horse. He never stumbles, and
never shies, and he is about the only horse I know that is
free from those faults; so that I can not afford to have
him impaled on a rail, or blown by a four hours' ride."
"I shall treat him as tenderly," said Esther," as if he
were an Arabian."
"Like Manfred," said Mr. Springfield; " and very fortunate it is for him that he has good blood in him, for he




292                   DE VANE.
has had to encounter some sore trials, to flesh and blood
both."
"I shall wait on you, then," said Waring, "very soon,
to learn the result of your interview with Miss Godolphin."
"Yes," said Esther.
Conversation followed upon general subjects, and afterward Mr. Springfield and Waring interchanged their
views upon some questions affecting the Church: a question of a class which they never overlooked, and about
which they uniformly agreed, sometimes having to encounter serious opposition from other official members.
Mrs. Springfield was happy to see that Waring's opportune presence had cheered Esther, and in her heart she
thanked him.
When he took his leave, the house was a brighter one
than when he had entered it; and he bore with him the
love and confidence of those who knew how to prize hispure and generous nature.




CHAPTER II.
"WHAT! may it be, that even in heavenly place
That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries?
Sure, if that long with love acquainted eyes
Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case;
I read it in thy looks, thy languished grace."
SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
IN accordance with her promise, Esther called the next
day at Mrs. Habersham's, and found Miss Godolphin at
home.  They had not yet removed to the country, but
were preparing to do so; Mrs. Habersham  having gone,
when Esther called, to make arrangements for their comfortable reception.  Miss Godolphin was seated in a small
boudoir, surrounded by needle-work and books; and as
she rose to receive Esther, she said:
"I welcome you to my own retreat, where I work, aind
play, and read, and write, just as I may feel inclined."
"It is a charming place," said Esther; " and I do not
wonder that you pass your hours here.  This window
gives you a view of the garden, and I can not imagine a
more cheerful spot."
"See this crape-myrtle," said Miss Godolphin, rising
and putting aside the rich lace curtain that draped the
sash.' Is it not perfectly beautiful? The color of the
flower is perfect."
"It is indeed beautiful!" said Esther.  "And the rich
deep bloom of the oleander imparts an Oriental aspect to
the place.  How can you give it up?"
"You have not seen our country place," she said. "That
(293),




294                   DE VANE.
is a wilderness of delights, and you know we have both
avowed our preference for the country."
" When do you go?" asked Esther.
"Probably on Saturday," she said. " My aunt is to decide to-day. I wish that you would accompany us. We
should be delighted to have you."
"Thank you," said Esther. "I shall hope to see you
often, but I could not at this time be absent from town."
"That Leasowes of yours," said Miss Godolphin, "is
absolutely engrossing.> The place is perfectly delightfula garden of the Hesperides, as I heard Mr. De Vane describe-it in conversation one evening. But you must be
rescued from it, and given to the great world."
"I find it a charming retreat," said Esther, " from the
great world; and when walking through its sequestered
paths, feel the refreshing influence of nature upon my spirit. Then as to the little girls, they are my friends, and it
sometimes saddens me to think that they have to encounter the great world."
"I shall certainly exert myself," said Miss Godolphin,
" to have you drawn away from it. Leave it for a time to
good Mrs. Green-for she is good. I called there some
days since to see you. You were not there, and the refreshing coolness of the spot was so inviting, that when
Mrs. Green asked me to stay, I sat with her for at least an
hour in the little end-gallery, shaded by wild orange-trees;
and she talked to me in such a way about this world, its
trials and its hopes, and the Lord, who, in his goodness,
was.training us for a better world, where there would be
peace, and where no partings would sadden us, nor death
enter to wound us, that I wept like one of your little
girls, and really wished that I could rest on the old saint's
lap, as I did, when a child, upon my mother's."
Esther's eyes filled with tears.  She was profoundly
affected by the picture which Miss Godolphin had paint



DE VANE.                    295
ed-this bright, proud, splendid creature, listening to the
happy talk of Mrs. Green, in her natural simple way,
about Jesus and heaven, until, in sympathy with the faith
and hope of the Christian pilgrim, she had wept like a
child.
"Yes," said Esther, "Mrs. Green is really good; and I
often sit with her, to hear her speak of the better country."
"0 Miss Wordsworth!" said Miss Godolphin, "I envy
you your faith and your peace."
"My dear Miss Godolphin," said Esther, "they may be
yours."
Miss Godolphin fixed her large, dark, soul-lit eyes on
Esther's face, and said: " How I long for rest! The world
is so shallow, so heartless, so unsatisfying! I have seen
it, young as I am, in its glory; and I do not hate it, but I
am  sick of it.  Its frivolous pleasures, its silly amusements, its soulless rivalries-oh! how I despise them!"
" You know," said Esther, "that there is One who has
said:'My peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth,
give I unto you.'"
"How beautiful!" said Miss Godolphin. "'Not as the
world giveth.' We all know how hollow that is. I must
study those words, for I want peace."
Esther was deeply affected. The appealing face of Miss
Godolphin, over whose classical features the shadow of
some great trouble seemed to rest, which, while it did not
cloud its beauty, touched it with suffering and heightened
its power, was irresistible.  "My dear Miss Godolphin,"
she said gently, " will you suffer me to try to guide you
to the feet of One who will give you that peace? I am
very weak myself, and my own feet want strengthening;
but I speak only what I know, when I say that there is
peace in believing."
"Believing!" said Miss Godolphin.  "Oh! that I could
believe. I have tried, I have struggled. In Rome I was




296                   DE VANE.
accustomed to go to the places of worship where I witnessed all that was most impressive in the form  of
religion. I saw and heard, and was impressed, but I
could not believe.  The music transported me.  I rose
to the highest heavens upon its ascending melodies. My
imagination was lighted up by all the glories of an
invisible world. The pomp and splendor of the service
bore me away, and I floated with the perfumed incense
into the very courts of heaven. The Miserere subdued
me and filled me with anguish. I felt the unutterable sorrow that breathed in its deep tones-tones deeper than the
sepulchre, deeper than the ocean, deep as the rayless abode
of lost spirits; but I never believed, never trusted, never
felt true penitence, nor was my soul even once lighted up
with hope-never!"
" No," said Esther, "that is not the place to find peace.
I do not doubt that many sincerely worship in the midst
of the imposing forms which you describe; but your nature seeks the simpler forms of majestic truth. You do
not need that any ministry to the senses should move you.
You are too earnest for that. It can not, of course, instruct
you; but you will find in the outlines of truth all that is
necessary to induce you to explore the recesses of its lofty
temple. The simplest aspects of nature are the grandest.
A great mountain standing out against the sky, fills us
with awe, while a wide-spread landscape of variegated
beauty only charms us. It is refreshing to me to read the
words of my Lord; to think of him as standing, not in the
midst of the temple, glorious as it was, but as seated upon
the mountain-side, still more glorious, or standing upon
the shore of the sea, or walking through the green fields,
teaching his disciples. They may exclude the Lord from
their temples, but they can not shut him out from nature."
" And do you read the teachings of the Lord, as you find
them in the Scriptures, with comfort?"




TDE VANE.                  297
-"Unspeakable comfort," said Esther. "And I do find
in the word of inspired truth the peace which the world
can neither give nor take away."
"You must help me," said Miss Godolphin. "Let me
be with you as much as possible-do!"
"You do not know how happy it will make me," said
Esther, " to be with you-to seek with you the right way.
It will help me, I am sure."
"Since I heard Bishop MIcKendree," said Miss Godolphin, "I have been longing to talk with some one on this
subject. The venerable appearance of the man at once
impressed me, and the simple, majestic beauty of his discourse opened to my view, for a moment, the survey of
another world. I did so much desire to speak with him;
but not knowing'you as I do now, I could not call."
" How I regret that I did not know your wish!" said
Esther. " He was with us for some days, and we should
have been very happy to see you."
" I do not doubt it," she said; "but it is so rarely that
I hear one who affects me as he did, that I lament his going without my hearing from him in conversation so much
that I wish to know. With you I can speak freely-I can
open my heart; you can fully sympathize with me. I do
feel so desolate-so desolate!"
"Often," said Esther, "have I wished to speak with
you, for I have felt the deepest interest in you; but I
feared that you might not comprehend me, and that I
should offend rather than help you."
"Oh! no; no fear of that. Why, Miss Wordsworth,
if you knew what I have suffered, what a dreary world I
live in, you would comprehend how welcome true sympathy is. My aunt is every thing to me that she can be.
She loves me as she loves no other being; but she herself
is bewildered. She has no light to cheer her own spirit;
13*




298                    DE VANE.
and the thought of death fills her with the deepest gloom.
You are to be my guide. I shall cling to you."
"Oh! that I were stronger!" said Esther.  "I have sat
by the hour and listened to the conversation of Mr. Springfield and Mr. Waring, and felt an eager desire that the
whole world could have the truth presented just as they
spoke of it. No argument, no display, but conversation;
bringing to bear upon the great subject the largest views,
in a natural, unstudied way, that lighted it up indescribably, just as one hears other subjects spoken of-the arts,
commerce, politics, the events of life-without a tinge of
doubt coloring their remarks, or the lightest fleecy vail of
mist clouding their vision."
"Delightful!" exclaimed Miss Godolphin. "I do not
wish any one to attempt to argue me into believing. It
would be hopeless. But to hear Christians speak of the
things which belong to religion, as if they felt them to be
real, has always had a great charm for me. I love that
good Mrs. Green, since I heard her speak as she did, in a
way that I can not describe to you; and I feel, at times,
like running round there, and begging her to let me come
to her every day, to hear her talk of the better country,
and of the road that leads to it."
" She will be delighted to see you," said Esther, smiling.
"There is a great charm about naturalness, and I do not
wonder that it gives you pleasure to hear the happy talk
of my old friend."
"She must give me some of her time," said Miss Godolphin. "If it were not for leaving my aunt inconsolable, I
should offer myself to Mrs. Green as a pupil, and take my
place among her other orphans."
"And yet you would take me away into the great
world!" said Esther, smiling.
" Oh! I only meant," said Miss Godolphin, "that I desired to see more of you-to have you more with us; and




DE VANE.                    299
I  really think that you would help to make the great
world better and happier."
" I shall certainly be very happy to be more with you,"
said Esther.  "I am afraid of thegreat world."
"What is called the fashionable world," said Miss Godolphin, "is to me not only unattractive, but repellent.
It is to the last degree distasteful to me. I have walked
through its vain mask, and feel now like one who, sitting
out a gay ball, stands in the cold gray light of morning,
when the music has ceased and the guests have gone,
looking at the decorated room, lately so brilliant, now vacant and chilling; and I ask myself if it can be possible
that these same people will ever return to resume their
revelry."' Society," said Esther, " ought to be organized upon a
different basis. Social enjoyment there ought to be, but
surely it may be had without making society itself the
worse for it. Life is too serious, too momentous an affair,
to allow us to pass through it seeking amusement merely.
Our tastes may be cultivated, refined, ministered to by the
arts, by music, by. literature, by conversation; and we
may indulge in whatever entertains us, without making
us frivolous, or without degrading us, by lessening our
love for the pure, beautiful objects which are within our
reach."
"Oh! yes," said Miss Godolphin, " we need not live in
solitude, nor ignore society, nor become misanthropic."
"Visiting," said Esther, "as it is usually conducted,
seems to me very unsatisfactory."
"Odious!" said Miss Godolphin; "and I carry it on
chiefly by cards; for I will not lend myself to the paltry
ceremonies which consist of calling, and sitting for a few
moments, and talking commonplaces, and hurrying  to
some other parlor to repeat the same senseless form. I
will not. In Europe they arrange things beautifully, for




00                    DE VANE.
there society is admitted to be artificial, and it has its
laws, perfectly well understood. In the first place, when a
stranger goes to reside in a place, he is expected to make
the first call, on such persons as he may desire to open
social relations with-reversing our rule, and very properly
too, I think; for it may not be known that such a person
has arrived, or it may not be his wish to enter society.
So, the new-comer makes the first call, and leaves his card
at such doors as he may wish afterward to enter as a
visitor.there. Those who desire to recognize social relations with the new-comer, may return the call, either by
sending a card, the most frigid of all modes of recognition,
or by driving to the door and leaving a card, which is respectful but stately; or by calling in person, and sending
in a card with one of the corners turned down, which
means that you are willing to see the person hereafter; or
by ringing the door-bell, sending in your name, and asking
for the person-all of which is perfectly well understood
by all well-bred people in Europe. And for my part, I
admire the system, and shall act upon it here."
" A very large circle of merely formal people is neither
profitable nor agreeable," said Esther.
"Forms," said Miss Godolphin, "are not to be overlooked.  They have their importance. But within the
circle of form there must be a smaller one of real interest
and heart attachment. I am  pleased with our society
here. It is unusually good; but with the large number
of young persons who surround us, it is not to be expected
that we can know them all intimately."
" I shall hope to see you often," said Esther, " even when
you go to the country."
"Oh! yes," she said; "the distance is very short.  We
shall drive in almost daily, and we shall insist upon keeping
you with us part of the time."
Esther expressed her thanks, and said:




DE VANE.                   301
"Our friend, Mr. Waring, was projecting some riding
excursions only last evening, and it is his wish that you
should join us in them."
"Oh! thank you," said she, " I shall be very happy if
you will consent to take me as one of the party, and will
join you at any time."
"I have said to Mr. Waring that I must wait for the
comiing of my own horse. I shall order him to be brought
to me without delay."
"Is he far from here? Will it require some time to get
him here?"
" But a few days," said Esther. "He is just now enjoying country life, and I should have had him brought to
me in the spring, but I was so occupied that I did not
do so."
"In the mean time," said Miss Godolphin, " we can supply you, perhaps. We have at our country place two or
three good saddle-horses, I believe."
"I must wait for Manfred, thank you," said Esther.
" We know each other."
" When Mr. De Vane returns," said Miss Godolphin,
" he must find us fearless horsewomen. Those Virginia
gentlemen, especially from the mountains, do ride su-.
perbly."
" Of course, then," said Esther, "we must be diligent in
the mean while; and I promised Mr. Waring to see you
to-day on this important matter."
"Ah!" said Miss Godolphin, looking at Esther quickly,
" does Mr. Waring wish me to join you before Mr. De
Vane's return?"
" He is quite earnest about it," said Esther.
Miss Godolphin looked gratified, and said:
" Any one might find it a sufficient attraction to attend
you and Mr. Waring," she said, " independent of the pleasure of being on hoIrseback; but I fancied that he was so




302                   DE VANE.
engrossed by _you and his friend Mr. De Vane, that he
had no room for any one else in his heart."
Esther laughed, and said: " We are good friends, it is
true-tried friends; and his attachment to Mr. De Vane
is great; but I do not think we fill his entire heart."
"I never witnessed any thing like his friendship for that
young Virginian," said Miss Godolphin. "I believe he
would lay down his life for him to-morrow; and as to
yourself, I have heard it said that he entertains for you
the grand passion."
"For me!" exclaimed Esther, coloring to the temples.
" Why, he is to me as a brother. I have known him since
I was a child."
Miss Godolphin's eyes rested on her, with an earnest
look. "That is just what Mr. Clarendon said," she remarked. "He vindicated you promptly, and added that
you had never loved any one."
The receding blood again rushed to Esther's face, and
she said in low tones: " I thank Mr. Clarendon."
"Do you think, Miss Wordsworth, that men are capable
of true, unswerving, lifelong attachments?"
"Really," said Esther, "I have not studied the philosophy that would enable me to answer that question."
"Lord Bacon's philosophy," said Miss Godolphin, "the
philosophy of observation and experience-the philosophy
of life-makes me doubt it."
Esther's face was troubled.  An indefinable shadow
passed over her spirit.
"Observe," said Miss Godolphin, "I am only skeptical.
My faith, or rather my rejection of faith, is not confirmed."
"It is to be hoped," said Esther, " that you will adopt
a brighter creed. It is dreadful to doubt; and I should
think, to doubt the loyalty of those we love, would. make
one most miserable."
For a minute or two Miss Godolphin said nothing. She




DE VANE.                   303
seemed lost in thought, unconscious of the presence of Esther. She looked out upon the garden. The perfume of
its flowers came through the open window, and the glancing sunbeams played over the deep-green leaves of the
oleander.:Where had the thoughts of Miss Godolphin wandered?
What converse was she holding with her own heart, as
memory threw its broad light over the past?
"And Mr. Waring is your friend?" she said at length.
" He looks like a true man. You are happy, Miss Wordsworth, in the possession of such a friend."
" I prize him highly," said Esther. "He is a true man
-noble, generous, sincere, earnest. His mind and his
heart are both grand."
Miss Godolphin's face expressed interest, and Esther
proceeded to give a statement of Waring's course-his attachment to his sister; his unselfish relinquishment of his
share of the joint estate inherited by them, for her benefit;
his engaging in teaching; his career in college; and his
pure, fervent faith as a Christian.
Miss Godolphin's face exhibited varying emotions, as
Esther continued, with an unconscious glow, to recite her
knowledge of her friend's history; and when she ceased to
speak, there was silence for a moment.
"Miss Wordsworth," said Miss Godolphin, " such a man
is godlike! How immeasurably he transcends those who
boast of rank, and plume themselves upon the possession
of wealth! Such a man throws a crowned king into
eclipse, and vindicates the claim of men to that trust and
consideration which our sex always wish to repose in
them."
Esther was almost startled by her enthusiasm. She
said: "You can not overrate Mr. Waring, Miss Godolphin;
he is pure gold."
It was understood, before Esther left Miss Godolphin,




304                   DE VANE.
that arrangements should be made as early as possible for
their equestrian excursions; and when they separated, each
felt a deeper interest in the other, and both resolved, that
for the future they would seek each other oftener, and
indulge a more unrestricted intercourse than they had
hitherto enjoyed.
When Thursday evening came, Waring appeared punctually in Mr. Springfield's library, and joined the family
at tea. It had long been his habit to pass that evening
with them, and he prized the privilege.
As he entered, seeing Esther seated on a fctuteuil, he
advanced to her, and said gayly: " What tidings do you
bring?"
She smiled, and said: " Are you very much interested in
knowing?"
" I think I may venture to say that I am. The sketch
which you drew, when I was here last, of our horseback
adventures, has so impressed me, that I find the forms of
fair ladies galloping over my pages in the highest equestrian style, when I attempt to read."
" Indeed!" said Esther. "Day-dreams! You are really
interested."
" I must confess it honestly; and you will, as a humane
person, relieve my anxiety as speedily as possible."
"Then," said Esther, "I am happy to say that my tidings are good. Miss Godolphln graciously consents to
join us, whenever we notify her that we are ready."
Waring's face lighted up, and Esther was surprised to
see the pleasure which her announcement gave.
"And they have not yet gone to the country, then?"
he said.
"Not yet," said Esther. "They will probably go on
Saturday; but the distance is so short, that it is only a
suburban residence; and I have promised to visit Mliss
Godolphin often.




DE VANE.                   305
" There is a wonderful fascination about her," said Waring; " and I think that you will find her as unworldly as
she is charming."
"She is remarkably so," said Esther, " and that is her
great charm. Comprehending the great world as she does
-having seen it in its many-sidedness, to use a German
phrase-she is as simple in her tastes as if she had never left
her native place. She is, of course, cultivated as she could
not have been if she had remained at home, but her tastes
are as pure and fresh as possible. She hates fashionable
life, and loves the true, the simple, and the beautiful."
Waring listened with evident satisfaction to Esther's
glowing tribute to her friend-for such she now feft her
to be. The sympathy between them became perfect, from
the moment Miss Godolphin spoke to her upon the subject
of religion, as she had done.
"Few come back from the grand tour," said Waring,
" with such tastes. With all her genius and accomplishments, there is nothing of pretension or false manner about
her. She is a very superior person."
"We all admire her," said Mr. Springfield, " as every
one must who can appreciate qualities so rare as hers."
"Do you know her religious views?" asked Waring,
addressing himself to Esther.
" We had quite a free conversation on that subject when
I was last with her," she said, "and I was distressed to
find her so much bewildered; but she is earnest and humble, and I hope that she will soon emerge from the clouds
which surround her."
Waring made no reply, but seemed to be lost in thought.
Mrs. Springfield had not been present when the conversation was going on, but she now entered the room, and
that roused Waring from his prolonged reverie. He rose,
and took his seat near her.




306                   DE VANE.
"Mrs. Springfield," said he, " I am so lonely now, that
I hail the evenings that permit me to come here."
"And why not come every evening?  We should be
very happy to see you."
"Oh! my books would suffer. I must do something to
help me on the road."
"The days are so long," said Mrs. Springfield, " that
you might very well close your books with the going
down of the sun."
"Labor is the law of my life, you know, and I do not
know that it will ever be otherwise with me."
They were invited to the tea-table, and the evening
passed off cheerfully.
Esther that night revolved a subject which Waring's
conversation and manner suggested. She began, for the
first time, to suspect that he was deeply interested in Miss
Godolphin. She was inclined to believe that the busy
archer was trying his arrows upon the young Professor.
Could he have the boldness to try his archery in that
direction? to venture to pierce that manly and hitherto
impenetrable breast?
With a woman's instinct, she could very well conceive
that the brilliant, inexplicable, beautiful.being whose sky
was sometimes overcast by fleeting clouds, luminous from
the very glory that they obscured, was the very person to
attract a nature like that of this pure, elevated, unworldly
man, who had never yet been brought under the dominion
of that passion which exempts so few from its control.




CHAPTER III.
0 PURE of heart! thou need'st not ask of me
What this strong music in the soul may beWhat and wherein it doth exist;
This light, this glory, this fair luminous mist,
This beautiful and beauty-making power.
We in ourselves rejoice."
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.
THE deepening splendors of summer were beginning to
catch the tint of early autumn.  Waring had received a
letter from De Vane, announcing his arrival, and giving a
detailed account of his reception, and of the impressions
made on him by re-visiting early scenes.  He had not yet
made any visits, and had seen but few of the gentlemen of
the neighborhood.  General De Vane had welcomed him
warmly, and expressed his gratification at his appearance;
for he was full of health and vigor.  Mlrs. De Vane was as
much moved as a mother upon welcoming home once more
a long-absent son. The family servants greeted him joyously. Even his English pointer had recognized him, and
inanimate objects seemed to be conscious of the return of
their young lord.  Mr. Guilford, his stately neighbor, had
called, and invited him to visit him.
Evidently De Vane's welcome had been a gratifying one,
and he was more pleased than he had expected to be, in
returning to his ancestral home; but he sent kind messages
to friends, and especially to Mr. Springfield and his family.
Waring read, and re-read, the long letter, and then sat
down to think over it. It was natural that a young man
(307)




308                   DE VANE.
of family and fortune, re-visiting his home, should be pleased
with the cordial welcome that greeted him, and conscious
of the consideration extended to him. All this was natural, and Waring felt that it was so. Still there was a shade
of disappointment at finding in the language of his friend
somewhat more of warmth than he had looked for in describing home scenes. He did not reply to the letter immediately, but deferred that until he could read his own
impressions more clearly.
In the mean while, he had been much with Esther and
Miss Godolphin. Manfred had arrived-Esther's saddlehorse-and was in fine condition. He was a pure white,
with mane and tail as fine and glossy as silk, and showed
in his limbs and in his delicately-formed head his Arabian
blood. Full of intelligence, he was spirited and yet docile,
and was especially tractable by his mistress, who managed
him with perfect skill. Waring had engaged the horse
which De Vane had been accustomed to ride, and Miss
Godolphin had her own-a blood bay, with mane and tail
and legs black and glossy as a raven's plumage. Esther,
yielding to Miss Godolphin's repeated and earnest invitation, was passing a week or two with her friend at Miss
Habersham's country-seat, and Waring was accustomed
often to ride out early and pass the mornings with the
ladies, who joined him on horseback. A servant always
accompanied them, who, mounted on one of Mrs. Habersham's horses, opened gates for them when they rode into
inclosures, and held their horses, if they desired at any
time to seat themselves upon the bank of the clear stream
which meandered through the grounds, giving the place
its name, CLEAR BROOK.
After receiving De Vane's letter, Waring rode out to
Clear Brook. The ladies had, after an early breakfast,
mounted their horses and gone on their accustomed ride.




DE VANE.                    309
Waring, acquainted with the grounds, went in pursuit of
them, and soon overtook them.
"You are welcome, Mir. Waring," said Miss Godolphin;
"and the pleasure is not lessened by its being an unexpected one. You should have notified us, and breakfast would
have waited for you."
"Thank you," said he. "My good friend Mrs. Bowen
never scolds me, except when I go out before breakfast,
which she insists will ruin my health, if I persist in it. So
I took my coffee before I mounted my horse."
"What a day!" said Esther. "These woods are glorious at this season, and the light falling through them
reminds one of descriptions of great cathedrals, where the
sunbeams pour through windows of stained glass."
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin; "but never yet did cathedral equal this. See those crimson leaves, and that wild
vine throwing its boundless luxuriance over that towering
oak, and the yellow richness of that young poplar. I prefer this to any thing in the way of architectural splendor
that I have ever seen."
"Art can never rival this," said Waring; " and it is a
happy faculty of our being that enables us to sympathize
with nature."
"Sympathy with nature," said Miss Godolphin, "is a
part of my being. Everywhere, in the gentlest or grandest aspects of visible creation, I find something that appeals to me, and awakens within me a living sympathy.
What should I'do without nature? I rejoice in her smiles,
and share her sorrows when they come upon her."
"It is most fortunate, too," said Waring, "that whatever may be our mood, we can turn to natural objects
with interest."
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "that is generally true.
When artificial objects have ceased to delight us, and even
offend by their intrusive presence, we can still turn to




810                       DE VANE.
natural scenes, and find something to refresh, if not to
cheer us."
"I find," said Esther, "that writers whose love of nature
leads them to describe its charms, interpret the aspects of
the visible world so as to make them harmonize with their
own emotions."
" I have observed it," said Waring.
" For," continued Esther, "a happy soul finds nature
happy.  It was while Adam and Eve stood in their unsinning purity, that they saw the beauties of Paradise and
the glories of the outspread heavens.  They sang their
morning hymn of praise in full sympathy with the gladness of nature."
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin, "it is so.  Nature smiles
or weeps as we smile or weep. But we may be so wretched as to be indifferent even to the harshest visitations of
the elements, and defy nature even in storms.  The great
master of human nature comprehended this when he made
poor old Lear indifferent to the storm.  In reply to Kent,
who tells him:'The tyranny of the open night's too rough
For nature to endure.'
Lear says:'Thou think'st'tis much, that this contentious storm
Invades us to the skin: so'tis to thee:
But where the greater malady is fixed,
The lesser is scarce felt.
When the mind's free,
The body's delicate: the tempest in my mind
Doth from my senses take all feeling else,
Save what beats there.'"
She uttered the lines in a way that made them enter the
souls of her friends who rode with her. They had checked
the horses for a few minutes, when Esther called their at



DE VANE.                     311
tention to the beauty of the scene; and as she finished the
lines, she sat the very impersonation of sadness.
Waring said, after a silence of some moments: "Still it
is possible to triumph over nature, not by sadness only,
not by the benumbing power of deep grief, which makes
us defy it, but we can illumine its darkest aspects with the
light of our own spirits. In the language of an Eastern
hymn, we may say in mid-winter to the frozen earth:'Awake, thou wintry earth!
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair vernal flowers laugh forth
Your ancient gladness!
Christ is risen!'
The soul rejoicing in the triumph of its Lord, may spread
a luminous glory over all the visible world."
"I was crossing the Alps," said Miss Godolphin, "in
early spring. The morning was one of extraordinary mildness, and the mountains were in their glory. Still I could
feel no sympathy with the splendid scene-far more splendid than the traveler usually witnesses in going over that
pass. Toward evening a thunder-storm came on, wild and
terrific in its sublime strength, and I assure you, I felt no
more apprehension than I do at this moment.' Indeed, I
was too much oppressed even to sympathize with the surpassing power of the elements in their strife, as I did more
than once after that time. Can you help me, Mr. Waring,
to find that power which enables one to triumph over
storms within the soul, as well as to defy those which
spread their fury over the earth?"
" Have you not read, Miss Godolphin, the account, given
in language of simple beauty, of the storm which suddenly came down on the Galilean Sea, when those who were
driven before its fury in the little boat which could not
resist it, began to be overwhelmed with fear? that when




812                   DE VANE.
the tempest was at its height, their fear was increased by
seeing a form treading the waters as if they had been marble beneath His feet, and that then a clear, calm voice was
heard through the roar of winds and waves, saying,'It is
I, be not afraid,' and that presently both the commotion
in the elements was stilled by him, and the commotion
within human hearts, not less wild, subsided?  He can
give us a peace which nothing can disturb, and he alone."
"Yes, Mr. Waring," she said, "I have read it? I read
that book more than I ever did. Miss Wordsworth's example is not lost upon me."
There was a gentle dignity in her manner as she uttered
these words; so far from  the slightest attempt at effect, so full of truthful earnestness, that Waring and Esther were both much impressed with it.  They rode on.
Waring did not press the conversation; he comprehended too well that it was unsafe to disturb the process
through which Miss Godolphin's soul was passing, by too
much of human counsel. He could not understand her
troubles, for he did not know her history; but he saw
that her spirit was in a state of unrest, and he hoped that
after it flew over the wide waste of shoreless waters, exhausted and weary, it would fold its wings at last at the
feet of Him who invited all to come to him and find rest.
After riding for some distance in silence, he informed
the ladies that he had received a letter from De Vane.
"Indeed!" exclaimed Miss Godolphin with animation.
"And what does he write?"
"He had arrived at home," said Waring, "but had been
there too short a time to do more than glance at the surroundings. He had received some calls, but had returned
none; nor had any thing been said upon the subject of his
return to this State. He charged me with kind messages
to his friends, and, of course, names you both as embraced
in that phrase."




DE VANE.                    313
"I shall accept no general tender of regards in that
way," said Miss Godolphin, smiling. "I never did value
any such expression."
Esther looked at Waring earnestly, but said nothing.
"Oh! but you must understand me," said Waring.
"He does name you both, asks after you specially, and
alludes to you more than once as his friends."
"Still," said Miss Godolphin, "the message must be
very intensive to make me appropriate any part of it.
What do you say, Esther?"
It was the first time he had heard her call Miss Wordsworth by that name, and it pleased him; it proved a
growing intimacy, which he hoped would become still
closer.
"I feel very much as you do," said Esther. "We value
words from friends which are intended for us alone."
"Then, Mr. Waring," said Miss Godolphin, "you are
instructed to make known to your friend, Mr. De Vane,
that if he desires us to treat his messages with any consideration, they must be direct, and mean something."
Waring laughed. "Oh! I am sure they do mean much.
You do my friend injustice."
"Seriously, though," said Miss Godolphin, " what does
he say of his impressions? Does his heart warm  once
more for his home? and does he look back already upon
us as if he saw us in perspective?"
"He is evidently gratified with his reception," said
Waring. "It is natural that it should be so, and would
be strange if it were otherwise."
"Of course," said Miss Godolphin. "The'young laird'
returning to his ancestral halls, must be received with the
honor due to his rank."
"That is it precisely," said Waring. "And if I had explained for an hour, I could not have given so proper a
statement of the case."
14




314                    DE VANE.
"Will he return?" she asked abruptly.
"I have not permitted myself to doubt it," said Waring.
"'I have all the while known that the'most powerful inducements to stay would be presented to De Vane upon
his reaching home. I told him so, and tried to prepare
him in advance for the ordeal; and he uniformly insisted
that his mind was made up and his purpose fixed. I see
no reason yet to doubt it. I have the greatest confidence
in the basis of his character-he is a true man. His tastes
sometimes govern him, and he is impressible; but when
he takes his position, after considering it well, he will hold
it. He had taken his position in regard to his future residence before leaving here, after the fullest consideration,
and I think he will hold it in the face of every thing that
can be brought to bear upon him."
" Wait till we see his next letter," said Miss Godolphin.
Esther said not a word, but her heightened color disclosed the interest which she felt in the conversation.
Upon reaching the house, Waring excused himself and
returned to town.
De Vane had said nothing to him before leaving for Virginia as to his sentiments in regard to Esther, nor had he
in his letter made any allusion to the subject.  His scrupulous regard for Esther made him forbear to do so, just
as it had repressed any declaration to Esther of an attachment which he felt to be powerful. His sense of duty to
his father, too, made him feel that it was imperative on
him first to consult him in regard to his plans of life, and
to endeavor to bring him to his own views, before committing himself to others.
Still, Waring saw how deep his interest in Esther really
was, and he comprehended too that she was not insensible
to the regard which the manner of De Vane so plainly exhibited for her. As he rode slowly toward the town, these
thoughts troubled him. The delicate threads which in



DE VANE.                   315
fluences about these two bright young beings were weaving
into the strong cords of fate, who could see?-two beings
so deeply loved by him, so full of generous and high qualities. He breathed a silent prayer that all might be overruled for their good.
The weeks flew by. Esther returned to town, resumed
her morning visits at Leasowes, and advanced steadily in
the path of duty. September had come. Walking one
evening in the public garden, the gardener respectfully
took off his hat as she was passing a bed where he was
clipping a border of box, and spoke to her. She spoke to
him pleasantly, and was passing on, when he said:
" If you please, madam, I was wanting to inquire if you
have heard any thing lately about the young gentleman
who used to walk with you sometimes?"
Esther's face flushed instantly-how: the tumultuous
blood flashed over it! The suddenness of the question
startled her, and the unconscious gardener stood waiting
for a reply.
"No," she said, after a moment's hesitation, "I have
not heard any thing very lately from him, but he is expected to return in October."
" I wish he was here now," said the man. "A finer gentleman never trod these walks. It did me good always to
see his face; it was as welcome as the sun after a shower."
Esther could scarcely repress her tears.  The gardener stepped on the bed of flowers, and selecting some
half-dozen of the rarest, presented them to her, saying:
" It will be a bright day when he comes back to us, and
I'm glad October is not far off."
"Thank you for the flowers," said Esther, "they are
really beautiful," and bowing to the gardener, she walked
on. It seemed that she was to have De Vane that evening brought to her memory by another friend of his;




316                   DE VANE.
for calling at Leasowes, for a moment, she met "Uncle
Jacob," who seemed disposed for conversation.
"Mighty pretty flowers you've got there, Missis," he
said.
"Yes, Uncle Jacob, they have just been presented to me
by the public gardener, Mr. Swan."
"I think we can beat'em," said Jacob, roused at once
by a spirit of rivalry. "Last time Marster De Vane was
here, he said mine was the finest garden he seen anywhere
about. Wish he'd come back again."
Esther was amused.  "Yes, Uncle Jacob," she said,
c yours is a fine garden. You do look after it well."
"Just what Marster De Vane told me," said the old
man, highly gratified.
Esther passed on. She returned home, and when sitting
in the library the same evening, with Mr. and Mrs. Springfield, after tea, her servant Antony, a smart, well-dressed
man, who attended to her horse and went on errands for
her, came to the door, and said:
" Missis, Mr. Hobbs says you must have Manfred shod
like Mr. De Vane had his horse shod when he was here.
If you don't, he'll cut hisself some time."
"Very well, Antony," she said; " ask Mr. Hobbs to have
him shod in that way."
" He says too, Missis, that he'd like mightily to know
if any body's heard from him lately, and that he never
missed any body as much in his life."
" Why, Antony," said Mrs. Springfield, "how did Mr.
Hobbs happen to say that to you?"
-" I don't know, ma'am," he answered, "but he says that
Mr. De Vane used to come here mighty often, and he
thought mebby you'd all know when he was comin' back."
Mr. Springfield, who raised his eyes from his book to
look at Antony, was much amused.
"Tell your friend Mr. Hobbs," said Mrs. Springfield,




DE VANE.                   317
"that we hope to see him again early in October. Perhaps he can content himself until that time."
Antony disappeared. It occurred to Esther that it was
a remarkable evening, and it of course fixed her thoughts
more intensely than before upon the young Virginian.
" We should hear something of Mr. De Vane," said Mr.
Springfield. " Has Mr. Waring had a letter recently, do
you know, Esther?"
"I do not know, uncle," she said. "He has not said
any thing to me upon the subject."
She felt anxious. Her solicitude was heightened by the
events of the day.  How vividly such things recall the
absent! Who has not experienced a series of small things,
nothing in themselves, but so linked together as to startle
us by their conjunction?
Mr. Springfield sat musing for five minutes, and then
was roused by a rap at the library-door, when, upon an
invitation to enter, Waring walked in. Esther started.
She felt that he had heard from De Vane. She had that
kind of subtle, incomprehensible impression which we
sometimes experience in moments when the sensibilities
are unusually quick, and the spirit scarcely requires the
ministry of the senses to enable it to perceive objects.
" Good evening, Mir. Waring," said Mr. Springfield, rising to receive him. " I am glad to see you."
"We are all glad to see you," said Mrs. Springfield,
giving him her hand.
Esther came forward and extended hers, when Waring,
turning to her, said: " Are you not well? You're looking
pale."
"Perfectly well," said Esther, now coloring, "and I too
am very glad to see you."
Waring sat down.
" Have you had tea?" asked Mrs. Springfield.
"Yes, thank you," he said, " and should have joined




318                   DE VANE.
you, but calling at the post-office, I found a very long
letter from De Vane, and walked to my ownroom  to
read it." 
"Good tidings from him, I hope," said Mr. Springfield.
"Yes," said Waring. " Ie is very well, and begs to be
remembered in the kindest terms to you all."
Mr. Springfield bowed.
" I do not know that I can do better than to read you
that paragraph of his letter," said Waring.
" We shall be pleased to hear it," said Mir. Springfield.
Waring took from his pocket the letter-it must have
covered ten pages-and detaching the last sheet, he proceeded to read it.
" Having disposed of these affairs, I now turn to other
subjects far more agreeable to me. You know, my dear
Waring, my strong attachments draw me to the town,
where, for more than three years, I resided; where I first
came to the consciousness of manhood, and felt that my
soul and intellect had both opened under the influences
which were forming me-for really it was a formative
process through which I passed. Miy attachment to the
place is strong-to my friends there, so strong, that I feel
it would be impossible for me to be happy away from
there. Upon coming here, I was so warmly greeted, that
early memories revived powerfully; and I could not, for
some weeks, bring myself to make known to my father
and to my aunt my plans of life. They seemed to have
taken it for granted, upon my return, that I had yielded
to their wishes. It seemed cruel to undeceive them; but
I at length went over the whole ground with Mrs. De
Vane, and satisfied her, at one sitting, that I was immovable. She saw it, and felt that to keep me here, merely in
obedience to an arbitrary wish of my father, would be to
sacrifice me. She is a very superior woman; and when
she became satisfied that my happiness and my success in




DE VANE.                   319
life were both involved, she addressed herself to the great
task of bringing my father over to my views. Then came
the great struggle that I have already described to youa struggle far the most painful of my life. It is ended.
My father acquiesces; says I am a modern man; that I
have been, in that Southern college, subjected to influences
which bring me into full sympathy with the progress of
the age, and that, as he has had his career, it is proper
that I should be suffered to shape mine.
"The struggle is ended, and I shall return to you early
in October. I have not written of late, because I was unwilling to do so until I saw the end; and it is possible
that you, and others whose esteem is prized by me beyond
measure, may have misinterpreted my silence. I have
never wavered for an hour. I have, in the first part of
my letter, given you a full statement of all that was offered
to tempt me to make this my home-for I wish you to
comprehend me-but I have not at any time swerved from
my purpose. Do, then, make this known to my friendsof course, I mean to Mr. Springfield, whose good opinion
you know I prize; to Mrs. Springfield, whose fine mind
and true heart have done so much for me-more than she
herself can know; and to Miss Wordsworth. Nor do I wish
to be misjudged by Miss Godolphin. Good Mrs. Bowen,
I am sure, has never had her faith in me shaken. Before
quitting here, I shall make my arrangements to have my
interests looked after for me, and this will detain me some
little time; still, you may expect me early in October.
Intending to travel with my own horses, I shall be somewhat longer on the way. When I do arrive, I shall make
the melodeon discourse its most triumphant music. Once
more, I say, I have had a great struggle, but it is dyer.
"I am to make a political speech at Charlottesville on
Saturday, being invited to do so by the citizens. Virginia
is safe for General Jackson. The Hamiltons, our Method



820                   DE VANE.
ist neighbors, have just called. I shall go to meet them.
They are far the most agreeable people I have seen since
my return, and they remind me vividly of our friends, the
Springfields. Adieu.
"Always your friend,           GEORGE DE VANE.
"P. S.-The Hamiltons sat an hour. Perfectly charming people; and they sympathize wholly with my plans
of life.
" I forgot to mention that I have a horse for you-one
of the best Virginia breed-and anticipate equestrian exercises, with two friends known to us both, on my return.
"G. D. V."
" There," said Waring, " I have done my duty."
" Yes," said Mr. Springfield, " we are all greatly indebted
to you. Your friend is really a noble fellow."
" I know," said Waring, " what he has had to encounter.
I almost trembled for the issue."
" You will write him again?" asked Mr. Springfield.
"Without delay," said Waring.
" Then," said Mrs. Springfield, " do offer him our congratulations, and assure him of a warm welcome upon his
coming."
There was a spice of mischief in Waring's composition,
grave as he was; and turning to Esther, he said:
"And has Miss Wordsworth no message for my friend,
Mr. De Vane?"
Esther's face was radiant, and her smile bright as a sunbeam.
"Only to thank him for not having forgotten us," she
said.
Never had a letter diffused greater joy; and Waring's
own heart was full of gladness. He had read aloud but a
small part of it. De Vane had given him an extended
history of his trials and contests; of his meeting his early




DE VANE.                    321
friend, Clara Guilford; of Mrs. De Vane's plans for his
future; of her criticism of Esther; and warning-him against
the designs of his Methodist friends upon him; and he
hinted at the knowledge which he had obtained of the
history of afriend of theirs, which would, perhaps, explain
the mystery of her sadness. -All this, of course, Waring
kept to himself, as it was intended by the writer that he
should, and as his own sense of propriety would have
prompted him to do.
" Then," said Mr. Springfield, "it is a settled thing, that
Mr. De Vane is to reside amongst us. I must express my
very great gratification. I have, from the first hour of
our acquaintance, entertained a high opinion of him. He
wants but one thing to make his character complete."
" You think," said Waring, " he is just where the young
ruler was, who came kneeling, and asking the way to life."
"Yes," said Mr. Springfield.
" He will find it," said Waring. " It may require years to
disentangle him from the meshes of German rationalism;
but I can not believe that any nature so noble, and that
loves truth so profoundly, can finally wander out of the
way-never."
"I agree with you," said Mrs. Springfield.  "I have often
conversed with Mr. De Vane upon that great subject, and
he is earnest in seeking the right way. He has some very
wrong opinions, and he will never be argued out of them;
but he will be led in the right way."
" Thank you," said Waring warmly, "for your appreciation of my friend."
"We may look for him, I suppose," said Mrs. Springfield, "in the course of a few weeks?"
"I suppose," said Waring, "that he ought to arrive
early in October, unless some unexpected detention should
occur."
" He is to travel through a fine country," said Mr. Spring14*




322                    DE VANE.
field. "We passed over the greater part of the road last
fall."
"I wish," said Waring, "that you could have been
present this evening, when I informed Mrs. Bowen of De
Vane's decision, and told her of his speedy coming. She
absolutely wept for joy; and I do not doubt that she will
to-morrow morning commence preparations for having his
room in readiness, just as if he were coming to-morrow
night."
"He inspires very strong sentiments, I suppose," said
Mr. Springfield, " where he is well known; sentiments of
esteem and affection, which only a great nature like his
can awaken."
How is Miss Godolphin, Mr. Waring?" asked Mrs.
Springfield.
" Really, my dear madam, I can not say. It has been
some days since I gaw her."
"Some days!" said Esther. "'It seems to me that it was
only day before yesterday. Have you forgotten our meeting at the book-store?"
Mrs. Springfield laughed heartily, and said: "Why,
Waring, has it come to that?  However, I suppose two
days may seem a long while to a young gentleman under
some circumstances. Angels' visits, few and far between
-is that the line?"
" It is hardly deferential enough," said Esther, "to treat
a grave Professor in this way, when it is barely two weeks
before he enters upon his duties."
"By the way, so it is," said he, " only about two weeks
before I shall have to be very stately, and work hard
too."
"And renounce riding on horseback?" asked Mr. Springfield.
"Never!" said Waring. " One may be allowed that for
the benefit of his health and spirits."




DE VANE.                     323
" Surely!" said Esther.
" Of course!" said Mrs. Springfield.
" Good night!" said Waring, and rising, and shaking
hands warmly with his friends, he walked away in high
spirits.




CHAPTER IV.
"PAST, present, future, all appeared
In harmony united,
Like guests that meet, and some from far,
By cordial love united."
WORDSWORTH.
OCTOBER came, rich with autumnal glories.  Neither
fruits nor flowers had disappeared, for in that mild climate
they graced even the stern reign of winter.  There was a
refreshing coolness in the morning air, and the leaves,
touched by early frost, wore. the varied hues which give
such a charm to the woods in the fall of the year, as to
make us cease to regret the spring. Gold and crimson, intermingled with the never-fading deep green, met the view
everywhere.  The evenings were delightful, and fires
were kindled, to temper the slight chilliness which succeeded the lessening days. Absentees returned to town; and
carriages, which had been put away for the hot season,
were now drawn out, and rolled once more through the
streets. The doors of the College were thrown open, and
students were coming in from all parts of the State. The
town was beginning to wear a cheerful aspect, and to resume its animation. Friends, meeting on the streets, greeted each other warmly; and within-doors pleasant sounds
were heard, which spoke of reunited households, and all
the routine of home life was once more resumed.
Waring entered upon his duties, and wore for the first
time the robes of a professor.  His colleagues greeted him
cordially, and he undertook his new tasks with energy
(324)




DE VANE.                    825
and heartiness. Quite a number of the students were acquainted with him.  They were members of some one of
the less advanced classes when he graduated, and, feeling
the greatest respect for his character and talents, they impressed the new-comers with a high idea of his qualifications. In no college in all the world was there a higher
respect felt for a first-honor man than in that, where he
had but a little while before received that distinction; and
the Ocl&t which attended him on that occasion secured for
him a favorable reception from the students with whom
he was to walk as a professor-younger himself than some
of those who surrounded him, to hear his lectures.
Mrs. Habersham  had returned to town, and Waring
called to pay his respects. He was received both by Mrs.
Habersham  and Miss Godolphin with marked kindness.
They respected and trusted him, and the visits of no one
gave them more pleasure than those of the young Professor. His interest in Miss Godolphin.was deepening, andyet he found in her manner at times something so inexplicable that his ardor was checked, and his heart, full of
generous sympathy, was disturbed. It was impossible for
him to conceive what had thrown a shadow over the brilliant morning of a life which had so much to give it splendor; yet he felt himself powerfully attracted to her, and
he resolved to study the varying phases of a character
which so deeply interested him, before it became impossible to withdraw from its contemplation, without the loss
of his own happiness.
" How does the College open?" asked Miss Godolphin.
"Prosperously?"
"Never with higher promise," he said. "We lave a
larger number of students than we have had at any time;
and we must recommend to the Trustees to erect for us
additional buildings."
"You avant a new chapel," she said.




326                    DE VANE.
"Yes; we must have one; and we are enlarging our
library.  We should have a building suited to it."
"I hope," she said, "that the Legislature will be generous."
" You must help us with them," said Waring. " Exert
your influence, and secure for us a large appropriation."
"If I can do any thing, you may count upon me," she
replied.
"I am very sure that you can do much. One of the
leading members is, I am sorry to learn, earnestly opposed
to classical learning, and thinks nothing can save the country but common-schools."
"'Ah! well, we must put out all our strength against
him, and urge Mr. De Vane to activity when he returns."
" Yes," said Waring, " and Mr. Le Grande is a member
of the House, whose splendid scholarship will be of immense importance to us, himself at once an advocate for
classical learning, and a noble illustration of the advantage which it confers. A graduate, too, of our College."
"I hope to hear him this winter. He is said to be very
eloquent. I was so unfortunate as to miss his great speech
at the last session."
"I His eloquence," said Waring, "is rich and massive,
formed upon the classical models. He rivals them in the
fertility of his genius and the stateliness of his style.
Some passages in his orations are worthy of the palmiest
periods of Roman eloquence. It is really refreshing to
hear him speak. There is nothing commonplace, nothing
of rant, and yet an affluent style, which bears you away."
"I must hear him," said Miss Godolphin.  "It is delightful to hear such oratory."
"Yes," said Waring; "to escape the platitudes of some
speakers, and the mannerism of others, is, as you say,
delightful."




DE VANE.                   327
"The Legislature of this State is a superior -body, I believe," she said.
"Very," said Waring. "There, are several members of
the Senate, and of the House, who would adorn any parliamentary body in the world."
"Then, too," said Miss Godolphin, "we have eminent
men not in public life, who are equal to any that fill the
coveted places; for instance, Mr. Clarendon, and Mr. Hallam-not to mention others."
"Yes," said Waring, "Mlr. Hallam, at the bar, would
rank high anywhere; and Mr. Clarendon, at the bar, and
before the people, is, in my judgment, unrivaled.  He is
imperial."
" So I have heard Mr. De Vane describe him," said Mi;ss
Godolphin.
"If you wish to kindle De Vane's enthusiasm," said
Waring, "just bring up Mr. Clarendon. His appreciation
of his friend is charming."
" And when are we to have Mr. De Vane with us?" she
asked.
"Very soon, probably next week. He is on his wayhe was detained a little time looking after his affairs. It
seems that General De Vane, to secure his regular visits
to Virginia, has set apart a planting interest for him in
that State. He relies upon the conscientiousness of his
son, to make him look after it, to some extent, in person.
He is on the way, and I hope to see him within the next
ten days-possibly within less time he may be here."
"I am sincerely glad," said Miss Godolphin; "indeed I
am. He is a wonderfully agreeable person; and he has
vindicated his manliness by. adhering to his resolution to
make this place his home, and to engage in the actual lifestruggle."
"He deserves, all your commendation," said Waring.
" He has passed through an ordeal which few could endure




328                    DE VANE.
as he has borne it. His tastes and his ambition were both
powerfully appealed to, and all his ancestral pride brought
to bear upon his resolution; but he has decided to be a
MAN rather than an aristocrat."
"You certainly could give him no higher praise than
that," said Miss Godolphin.
" None, in my estimate of character," said Waring. "It
fills me with admiration to see a true man-one who can
bear himself with that fine air that is at once dignified
and gentle, without pretension or stiffness, as if unconscious of rank or distinctions, whether inherited or conferred. The high breeding of De Vane is seen in his bearing; but the nobleness of his nature is such, that he can
not be spoiled. His principles are well settled, and they
will triumph whenever they are tested."
"There is, I think, much to attract him  here," said
Miss Godolphin.  "He seems to be really attracted to the
place."
"He is," said Waring, " and yet I could not dismiss all
anxiety about him when I thought of the Virginia home,
the father, the aunt, the wealth, the consideration, the
strong feeling of caste in which he was educated. When
I received his letter announcing his intention to return, it
filled me with the exultation with which one hears the
news of a victory; and I assure you that it required as
much true heroism to resist the temptations to lead a life
of luxurious and aristocratic ease, and to break away from
the enticements which surrounded him in that Virginia
home of his, as it does to enable one to achieve a triumph
in battle against heavy odds."
"Still," said Miss Godolphin, "we must not underrate
our attractions here; and I am sure that Mr. De Vane
knows how to appreciate them."
There was something of archness in her manner of saying this, which implied much more than the words.




DE VANE.                   329
"But," she added, "I entirely agree with you in thinking that he deserves the highest commendation for carrying out his resolution to renounce a life of ease and inaction, for a career of active labor."
" Upon his return," said Waring, " I shall bring him to
you, that he may make his acknowledgments for your ap"
preciation of him."
"Do," said Miss Godolphin. "We shall be very glad
to see him."
Some time after, when the evening was pretty well advanced, Waring returned to his solitary room, to think of
the mystery attending Miss Godolphin, who, sometimes
very sad, had been this evening brighter than he had seen
her.
The unusually large number of students entering the
College, gave great animation to the town; and as they
took their evening walks, they spread through the streets
their own brightness.
Doctor Hume was unusually active, and Blanche ambled with him in the most amiable way, from the College
grounds to the post-office, the book-stores, the printingoffices, and other points, where he habitually called.
Whatever distrusts may have been entertained as to his
orthodoxy, no one who knew him could regard him unkindly. His own genial nature shone through his face,
and gave warmth to his manners; and he forbore to press
his peculiar religious views upon the students.
Leasowes was once more a scene of regular industry;
and Esther had resumed her accustomed labors with her
pupils. She was never brighter. The activity of her step
showed the gladness of her nature. Her smile warmed
the little circle of orphaned girls far more than the sunlight, and her voice filled the walks which she trod with
joyous notes. Never were the waters which flashed in
the fountain brighter; and as they filled the marble basin




830                   DE VANE.
into which they fell, the liquid crystal, overflowing its
edges, gave new freshness to the turf which lined the
little stream that glided away into the overshadowing
shrubbery.
De Vane had not yet arrived, but he was expected daily.
Mrs. Bowen, as Waring had predicted, had really gone to
work promptly, to put his room in perfect order. Carpets, curtains, chairs, books, every thing looked as fresh
as if De Vane had stepped out of it but an hour before.
Every morning she walked in to survey it, and to adjust
the curtains and dust the furniture; and she enjoyed it
next to a visit to Waring, who still retained his room,
preferring it to any which could be provided for him at
the College. She was becoming very impatient at the delay in De Vane's return, and on Saturday morning walked
into Waring's room, after making her usual visit tot his
friend's, just opposite.
"Mr. Waring," she said, " when is Mr. De Vane coming? I'm afraid something has happened to him on the
road."
" Oh! no," said Waring. " The road is a long one, and
it requires some time to make the journey. He is not
coming in the stage-coach, you know, but is traveling
with his own horses and servant, and that, you know, requires more time. I think, however, we shall see him
here now very soon."
"Well," said Mrs. Bowen, "I hope the good Lord will
take care of him, and bring him safely. I do want to see
him."
"Every thing is ready for him in his room, I suppose,"
said Waring.
" Oh! yes," said Mrs. Bowen. "I've tried to put things
to rights. I've put the table just where he used to have
it, and the chairs and the books just as he liked to have
them. I hope he'll be pleased."




DE VANE.                   331
"You may be sure of that," said Waring. "He was
always pleased with your arrangements in his room. I
have often heard him say that he could not feel at home
anywhere but here."The good old lady was immensely gratified, and her
eyes were moist: as she said:
" Well, I do love to work for Mr. De Vane, and to put
his things in order, he is so easy to please."
"I never heard him  make the first complaint.  He
doesn'tlike to have his books moved, I know, and I never
disturb them, further than to brush the dust off of them;
and I leave his pens and papers just where he lets them
stay."
Waring smiled. He saw that MIrs. Bowen had learned
to respect De Vane's rights; for, while scrupulously neat
in every thing, he would leave his books in apparent confusion, and he was annoyed if one removed them. Sometimes they covered tables, sofa, chairs, and floor, for days
together, when he was pursuing some particular branch of
study. Then would come a general clearing up, and the
books were replaced on the shelves. No one but a student
can realize the luxury of being permitted to leave books
and papers scattered in this apparent  confusion, with the
certainty that they will not be disturbed by the ruthless
hand of careful housekeeping.
Waring passed the evening at Mr. Springfield's, taking
tea with the family.
"Well, Professor," said Mr. Springfield, as he entered,
"we are glad to see you. How do affairs go on at the
College?"
"Thank you," said Waring, " well. We are more prosperous than ever before."
"And what does Dr. Hume say to the new arrangement?"
"He is very amiable," said Waring; " and is really so




332                    DE VANE.
good a friend, that he would make no objection if he disapproved it. But I do not think he does. He is a man of
liberal spirit, and contends for perfect freedom of opinion."
"He seems to be deeply interested in politics," said Mr.
Springfield, "and is intensely of the State Rights school
of thinkers."
"Yes," said Waring, "he at times utters some startling
opinions, which may yet- be as formidable as dragon's
teeth, and, if wide-spread, will yield great armies."
"So I think," said Mr. Springfield; "but I agree with
him in politics at least. It is of the first importance, to
resist the tendency to consolidation in the Government,
which is beginning to manifest itself. If it should go on
for a few years as it is now doing, the whole character of
the Government will be changed."
"That is true," said Waring.  " But if every Southern
State would resist the encroachments of the Federal
Government, as Georgia has done, we should have very
little trouble."
"Yes," said Mr. Springfield, " Georgia has done nobly;
and the emphatic announcement, that, the argument being
exhausted, it was the purpose of the people to stand by
their arms, seems to have been accepted as an authentic
utterance of the will of the State."
"IHave you read Dr. Hume's new work on Political
Economy?" asked Waring.
"No," replied Mr. Springfield.  "It was sent to me
by Mr. Mtiller, some days since, but I have not yet had
leisure to look into it."
"You will be pleased with it," said Waring.  "But
some of his propositions may startle you. Pursuing the
idea that money is but the representative of property,
having no real value in itself, he conducts you to the conclusion that the imports of a nation are the best measure




DE VANE.                     333
of its wealth; and that a country is enriched by importing,
no matter how little it may export."
"A very sound proposition, certainly," said Mr. Springfield, "if a country can produce a sufficient supply of the
precious metals to pay for the articles which it buys from
abroad; but I can never believe that a nation, any more
than an individual, can be enriched by running in debt."' The book," said Waring, "is remarkable for its clearness; and you will like it. I quite agree with its author,
that a mere hoarding of money can never increase the real
wealth of an individual or a nation."
" Certainly not," said Mr. Springfield.
At this moment, Mrs. Springfield and Esther; who had
just returned from a drive, entered the room, and expressed
their gratification at meeting Waring. They went in to
tea, and the conversation^became general.
"We found our drive," said Esther, "a delightful one.
There is a refreshing coolness in the air."
"I do not remember to have seen a finer season," said
Waring.  "The early frost has touched the leaves with
the richest hues, and the crisp earth under one's tread is
exhilarating. In what direction did you drive?"
"We took the upper road," said Esther. "It is undulating, and, I think, affords the finest view of our environs."
"Much," said Waring.  "That bold little stream  that
pours its noisy waters over the road, always refreshes me."
"For my part," said Mr. Springfield, " I prefer the river.
Either to drive to the mill, and from there proceed down
to the ferry, or to go directly from the town, down the
river-road, some three or four miles, is, at this season,
especially pleasing to me."
"I wonder," said Mrs. Springfield, "that you can overlook the beauties of the road leading to Mrs. Habersham's




334                    DE VANE.
country-seat.  The environs in that direction, I think
much the finest." 
"If it were not," said Mr. Springfield, "that you must
traverse a mile or two of sand, I might agree with you."
"Yes, but you have the tall pines as a compensation,"
said Esther.  "Let others boast of the oak,' and describe
its spreading majesty as they may, but the pine is my
tree. How it lifts it lofty head above the surroundihg
forest, so stately, so still, so silent, unless the wind sweeps
through it, and then it sends out its deep solemn tone, as
if the spirit of humanity dwelt there! Often in summer
mornings, when the bright sky was cloudless, and the
earth batled in its light, have I sat under the pine trees,
listening to their sad music.  Far up in the air, birds
were floating, and not a sound was heard to break the
solemn tone of the strain which sounded like the wail of
the distant sea; and many a summer evening have I stood
to see the sun go down behind a pine forest, sending his
fierce beams athwart the dark-green branches, until they
seemed to blaze. I love the pine. It is a dear tree."
She spoke with an enthusiasm  kindled by the recollection of early scenes, and her face beamed.
"Thank you for your tribute to the pine," said Waring.
"It is associated with my school-days. I often wandered
through the stately pine forests, impressed by the scenes
which you describe, watching the clear streams, and climbing the chalk-hills."
"I love the pine," said Esther, " as the Arab loves the
palm-tree. Both rise with stately glory, and catch the
earliest light of day. It is very common to hear persons
speak of the majestic oak: to me the pine is far more impressive; and when winter comes, and strips the oak of
its glories, the pine stands in undiminished grandeur, defying storms and ice, like a true man meeting adversity,
unchanged and unchangeable."




DE VANE.                     335
"If you emblazon your arms at any time upon your
coach, Esther," said Mr. Springfield playfully, " you must
add the pine.  I think it would do well to place it in the
centre, and group the other objects about it, or omit them
altogether."
" I should be content with the pine alone," said Esther.
"Mrs. Habersham's place," said Waring, "is skirted
on one side by a remarkably fine grove of young pines;
and I thought, as I rode through it, on my late visit there,
that I did not know  any woods more beautiful-a sad'
beauty though it is. One feels a sense of loneliness in
the pine woods,' more intense than,he experiences elsewhere."
"I love trees which change their foliage," said Mr.
Springfield.  "It is beautiful to witness the fall of the
leaves, when you look to the reproduction of the departed
glories of the forest in the coming spring.  Nature impresses us in all her aspects, and especially in the varying
seasons. The year is the type of time, and to me its
course is nothing short of sublime, when I look upon it,
as chronicling the advance of time toward eternity-the
finite foreshadowing the infinite."
Still," said Esther, " I love to see some trees standing
with unchanging verdure and undecaying beauty in the
midst of the general decline in the glories of the forest.
It is so consoling to feel that all things do not acknowledge the power of mutability-resisting that sway which
Spenser, in the Faerie Queene, describes as potential over
every thing under the heaven's rule, and which made him
loathe'This state of life so tickle,
And love of things so vain to cast away;
Whose flowering guide, so fading and so fickle,
Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming-sickle.'"
"And do you read the Faerie Queene?" asked Waring




336                   DE VANE.
"With real pleasure," said Esther; " some parts of it,
at least."
"His pathetic description of patient waiting is one of
the strongest to be found in any language. It was evoked
by his personal disappointments."
"Royal favor," said Mr. Springfield, "is almost as uncertain as popular applause."
" When are we to see Mr. De Vane?" asked Mrs. Springfield.
"I look for him every day now," said Waring. "He
must be quite near here, unless something has detained
him on the road."
"He does not travel by the public conveyances, I be —
lieve," she said.
"No," said Waring,  he comes with his servant and
his own horses, and this, of course, makes the journey
somewhat tedious."
"He will find it more agreeable, however," said Mr.
Springfield, "especially traveling through the district of
counutry which he will traverse in coming here."
"I suppose," said Mrs. Springfield, " that Mrs. Bowen
is ready to receive him?"
"Ready!" said Waring. "I wish you could see his
room. No mother ever looked for the return of an absent
son with greater eagerness. It would not surprise me to
find him upon my return, this evening."
But Waring, returning, soon after this conversation, to
Mrs. Bowen's, did not find his friend. He had not yet
arrived.




CHAPTER V.
THAT Is my home of love: if I have ranged,
Like him that travels, I return again."
SHAEESPEARB.
ON the following Wednesday evening, about sunset, a
traveler was seen entering the town, driving in an elegant
sulky, a very fine, large bay horse; while a servant, mounted on another closely resembling him, followed. The servant led a loose horse of extraordinary beauty-a chestnut
sorrel, with heavy mane and tail. All the horses were of
the best Virginia breed, and in form and action displayed
their fine qualities. All the appointments about thetraveler's harness, the dark livery of the servant, the trappings of the horses, displayed taste, and were unmistakably aristocratic.  His own dress was simply elegantrather plain than showy. He drove directly to Mrs. Bowen's; and as he approached the house, he saw a gentleman
seated in the portico, enjoying the freshness of the quiet
evening air. It was Waring.
Waring was seated with his face turned away from the
street by which the traveler approached Mrs. Bowen's
house, and it was not until he stopped directly in front of
it, that he turned to observe him.  He then instantly
started up, and rushing out, exclaimed:
"What! De Vane, have you actually arrived at last?"
"I am happy to say that I am here bodily," replied De
Vane, extending his hand, which Waring shook heartily.
" What with moving accidents by flood and field, I
15               (337)




338                   DE VANE.
thought at times that I should never reach here. How
are all our friends?"
" Well," said Waring," very well, and looking for you
daily. You are somewhat behind time. But come in."
"Where is Caesar?" said De Vane. "I must send him
to show my man the way to the livery-stable."
Caesar appeared — an active black man, Mrs. Bowen's
chief reliance in the conduct of all out-door affairs-and
very cordially extended his hand to De Vane, and gave him
a generous welcome. De Vane instructed him to show his
servant Tully to the livery-stable, and Caesar, after unstrapping De Vane's trunk, protected from dust and rain by a;
heavy bear's skin, and taking his traveling articles into the
house, mounted into the sulky and drove to the stable,
followed by his classical namesake.
Mrs. Bowen met De Vane as he entered the house, and
gave his hand an energetic shaking, while tears of joy
rolled down her cheeks. "I'm so glad to see you, Mr. De
Vane," she said. "I began to be uneasy about you."
"Why," said De Vane, "I was detained some two or.
three days in Virginia longer than I supposed I should be,
and then I found one or two mountain streams so much
swollen by late rains, that I was kept some few days waiting for them to run down, and finally had to swim them,
with bag and baggage. But here I am, safe, at last, Mrs.
Bowen."
"Thank the Lord for it!" she said. "And your room is
ready for you, and has been for weeks."
"Ah! thank you," said De Vane. "Then I will go to
it, and get some of this dust off; and when my servant returns from the stable, please send him to me."
Waring accompanied him to his room, and they talked
over their affairs. Both had a great deal to say-many
questions to ask and answer. Waring gave him an account of affairs that particularly interested him; and upon




DE VANE.                   3g9
De Vane's asking after Mr. Springfield and his family, he
gave him a full statement of Esther's doings, comprehending, of course, that it would gratify him. In reply to De
Vane's inquiries, Waring spoke, too, of Mrs. Habersham
and Miss Godolphin, representing the interest which both
had expressed in De Vane, and their gratification at learning that it was his purpose to fix his residence here.
The conversation was a long and satisfactory one. The
past, the. present, and the future, all were discussed, and
when Caesar came to invite them to supper, the friends had
not yet concluded their interview; but they descended
promptly to the table. Mrs. Bowen had made ample preparation for De Vane, fancying, of course, as good old
ladies will do, when an absent one returns, that he had
been half-starved on the journey. A beef-steak, two boiled
fowls, and at least a dozen varieties of hot bread, smoked
on the luxurious table. Knowing that De Vane disdained
tea, clear, amber-colored coffee, with rich cream, appeared,
and De Vane and Waring both partook of the bounties in
a way to gratify Mrs. Bowen.
"This coffee, Mrs. Bowen," said De Vane, "excels any
that I have seen since I left your house. The gods might
throw away their nectar for it."
"I know you always liked it," said the gratified old
lady, " and I'm glad to see you drinking it once more. It's
the real Old Government Java."
"That it is," said De Vane, "and I would not give it for
all. the Mocha in the world."
"Nor I," said Waring. " The flavor is perfect."
"And then, too," said De Vane, "there is a great deal
in the making. How do you succeed in having it so uniformly good?"
" Why," said Mrs. Bowen, "I pick it myself before it is
parched, so as to take out every bad grain. Then I have
it stirred while it is parching, to keep it from burning.




340                   DE VANE.
Then I grind it every time I want to use any, and instead
of the French way, I take the old-fashioned way of boiling
it in the tin pot which is brought on the table. Then I put
the sugar in the cup, pour in the cream, stir it well, and
stir it while I pour the coffee in the cup."
"It's a regular science," said De Vane, "and if ever I go
to housekeeping, I must get you to instruct me."
"Oh! I'1 do that, you may be sure," said Mrs. Bowen,
"if you set up housekeeping anywhere about here."
"Well, that is understood," said De Vane; " and as to
the place of my keeping house, that may be considered
as settled, too, for I intend to make this place my home."
"So Mr. Waring told me, some time ago," she said,
" and I was mighty glad to hear it, as I've no doubt others
will be, too."
" Thank you," said De Vane.
" I suppose," said Waring, "that though you have settled the question as to where you will set up your household gods, you have not yet fixed upon the time."
" Oh! no," said De Vane, "that is quite uncertain."
" You do not propose to set up a bachelor's establishment, I presume?" said Waring.
"Oh! no," replied De Vane. "I do not approve that
way of living; and Mrs. Bowen must take care of me until
I find some one who will consent to share my fortunes
with me, through the journey of life."
"I'll be very glad to have you here," said Mrs. Bowen,
"but I think gentlemen ought not to put off marrying too
long."
"You agree with Dr. Franklin," said Waring.
"Yes, sir," she said. "He was a wise man, and gave
good advice about most things."
"He was an intensely selfish old fellow, in my opinion,"
said De Vane; "and reduced every thing in heaven and
earth, to the standard of his utilitarian philosophy."




DE VANE.                   341
" Ie aspired simply to be a philosopher," said Waring.
" The high-priest of selfishness!" said De Vane. "Still,
he may be right about marriage."
"He was not without sentiment," said Waring. "Upon
one of his visits to Boston, he caused marble monuments
to be placed over the graves of his parents, and they may
be seen now in the burying-ground lying on one of the
principal streets of that city."
"Of course," said De Vane, "a philosopher would hardly
overlook such a duty as to pay respect to the memory of
a parent, but I detest the philosophy that instructs a man
to do right, simply because it is profitable to do so."
"There certainly should be a higher sentiment than that
in our moral code," said Waring.
"Yes," said De Vane. "I would not have a man run
up a calculation every time a moral question addresses
itself to him, that he may ascertain what he will make or
lose by taking one side or the other of it."
" He was an economist in all things," said Waring.
"Yes," said De Vane. "'You may take his Poor Richard
Almanacs, and all that class of his writings, into the account, and you will find it a mere code of selfishness. His
appeal to the passions, to go to bed early and rise early, was
not based upon any moral or asthetical view, but upon
the idea that they would save a certain amount of money
by employing the light of the sun, rather than that of
candles."
"But," said Waring, "after all, that was sensible enough."
"Sensible enough," said De Vane;" but that is just what
I object to in it. The inevitable money question is introduced into every thing. He was essentially material in his
ideas-of the earth, earthy. Even in the great debates
upon the Federal Constitution, when two rival sections
were in conflict about the largest questions-questions involving principles essential to the perpetuity of free insti



342                   DE VANE.
tutions-his idea was not to ascertain which was really the
true principle, and insist upon it until it triumphed; but
he was for a compromise, and he could employ no better
figure than one taken from mechanics. If, in making a
broad table, you can not make the joints fit, you must
take a little from each edge; just as if moral questions
were to be treated as deal planks."
Waring laughed. "I have often observed," he said,
"how poorly figures taken from physics illustrate moral
propositions. Still, as Mrs. Bowen teaches the same philosophy in regard to early marriages that Dr. Franklin
does, we must admit that it is worth consideration."
"Certainly," said De Vane. "I am ready to accept Mrs.
Bowen as authority upon any question. I have always
found her a good adviser."
"I'm obliged to you, Mr. De Vane," she said. "I always
wish to advise for the best; and as to marrying early in
life, I'm sure that I'm right."
" You must be more earnest in your exhortations, then,
to Waring," he said. "He is suffering the time to slip."
"I've been thinking of that," said Mrs. Bowen; ".and
I'm glad that you've mentioned it."
"Much obliged," said Waring. "I shall take the subject into serious consideration."
"Are you going out to preaching to-night, Mr.Waring?"
asked Mrs. Bowen.
" No, not this evening," said Waring. " I will stay with
De Vane, as he has been absent so long."
"So this is the evening fdr your preaching," said De
Vane. "I had forgotten it. Every Wednesday evening,
I believe, you set apart for that service."
"Yes," said Waring; "that is our usage."
"Well," said Mrs. Bowen, "I must let Mr. Springfield
know that you have arrived, Mr. De Vane. The last time
I saw him, he asked me about you."




DE VANE.                   343
"Thank you," said De Vane. "If he should ask after
me this evening, do give him my best regards, and say
that I will soon call on him." 
iMrs. Bowen rose from the table, put on her bonnet and
shawl, and calling for a servant-girl, started for the church,
which was only some three blocks from her house.
The gentlemen went up to Waring's room, to continue
their conversation, which lasted deep into the night.
At breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Bowen informed
De Vane that she had met Mr. Springfield at church the
previous evening, and that, upon his asking after him, she
had delivered his message.
"He seemed very glad to hear that you had arrived,"
said Mrs. Bowen, "and said that he should be happy to
see you at his house."
"Very much obliged," said De Vane. " What do you
say, Waring, to our calling this evening?"
" I shall be happy to join you," said Waring.
Soit was arranged that they should pass the evening at
Mr. Springfield's. Waring went to the College to look
after his duties, and De Vane proceeded to arrange his
room in a way to suit him, unpacking his trunk, and distributing his books in a home fashion.
In the afternoon, he invited Waring to walk with him,
and taking the livery-stable in their way, they entered it,
and examined De Vane's horses. Waring, who sympathized
with De Vane in his taste for horses, was greatly pleased
with them, pronouncing them quite equal, if not superior,
to any he had seen.
"I observe," said he, "that the two bays are closely
matched."
"Yes," said De Vane. "I train my horses to harness.
It is a mistake to suppose that their gaits are injured by
it, unless they are used to draw burdens, or in heavy carriages; but if worked only in a sulky, or in some light




344                   DE VANE.
vehicle, I am satisfied that their action is improved by it.
I do not suffer any horse of mine to pace, as it is called.
A firm, clear trot is much to be preferred. It is my intention to keep a light barouche, and we shall enjoy evening
drives."
"How could you select horses so closely resembling
each other?" asked Waring.
"They are full brothers," said De Vane. "'This one,
which you observe is slightly the larger of the two, is one
year older than the other. They are of the best English
breed, imported by my father into Virginia."
" They are very superior," said Waring.
" Bring out the sorrel," said De Vane to his servant.
He entered the stall, and led out a beautiful horse, not
quite so large as the bays, but in other respects fully equal
to them.
" There," said De Vane, "is the most faultless horse that
I know. Observe his shoulder; the slope is perfect, and
the fore-arm, long and broad, secures fine action, while the
arched loin and well-muscled hind-legs give him great
power and speed."
Waring expressed the highest admiration for him.
" Do you observe his halter?" said De Vane.
Waring stepped forward to the head of the horse, and
saw his own name worked on the morocco head-band.
"You have named him for me," he said. "It is a compliment."
" Ie is yours," said De Vane. "I brought him out for
you, and I hope that you will like him."
" You are not serious," said Waring, " in taking all this
trouble for me, and in making me such a splendid gift?"
" I assure you," said De Vane, "I was never more serious, and the gift would be a very poor compensation for
the great obligations under which you have brought me
by your trouble with me for some years. But the gift is




DE VANE.                   345
not intended as a compensation, but merely as an acknowledgment of my sense of your kindness."
" I accept the horse, De Vane, frankly, as a mark of your
friendship, not as any acknowledgment of an obligation;
for you are under none to me. But the gift is a valuable
one, and if our relations were other than they are, I could
not accept it," said Waring.
" The horse," said De Vane, "came from my own place,
and his blood is of the best in Virginia."
"Is he named?" asked Waring.
"Yes," said De Vane; " Ivanhoe-resembling his namesake in all high qualities."
Waring caressed the horse, who seemed to recognize
him as a friend, by that subtle instinct which animals
often exhibit, and from that hour the strongest attachment
grew up between them.
The gentlemen extended their walk to other parts of the
town, and entered the public garden. The fine evening
drew many promenaders to its walks, and among them
Mr. and Mrs. Clarendon. De Vane advanced to speak
with them.
" We welcome you, sir," said Mr. Clarendon, grasping
his hand warmly, "to your home and to your friends."
" Thank you, sir," said De Vane. "I am most happy
to meet you once more, and to see Mrs. Clarendon in
improved health. You are enjoying this pure air, I hope,
madam?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Clarendon; "it is delightful, and I
welcome you once more to a place which I know you love
so well."
De Vane bowed.
"I think, madam," said Waring, "that we must not
suffer him  to wander from us again. We all felt his
absence."
15*




346                   DE VANE.
" Very much," she replied, " and I am gratified to learn
that Mr. De Vane is to make this place his home."
"That is quite settled, is it, De Vane?" asked Mr. Clarendon.
"Quite settled," he replied. "And you can well understand how my interest in the place deepens, from the fact
that it is a settled question that this is to be my residence."'
"I congratulate you, De Vane," said Mr. Clarendon.
"You have chosen wisely. Much as I love our native
State-the glorious Old -Dominion-I know no place in the
world so attractive to me as this; and, as I said to you
some time since, I know you, and I am confident that this
is the place for you."
"Thank you," said De Vane. "I quite agree with you;
and you will allow me to say, that the wish to be near you
was one of the chief considerations that influenced my
decision in fixing upon this place as my home."
Mr. Clarendon bowed.
Mrs. Clarendon said: "Then, Mr. De Vane, we shall
hope to see much of you. You must come to us as you
would to your home. I think Mr. Clarendon was really
unhappy while you were absent, and was immensely gratified when he learned, through Mr. Waring, that after a
full survey of your ancestral home, you had decided to
return to us."
" I am very much gratified to hear you say so, madam,"
said De Vane. "Mr. Clarendon well knows how much
his counsels have influenced me."
" You have done wisely, sir," said Mr. Clarendon, taking:
out his handsome snuff-box, and extending it to De Vane.
"You have done wisely, sir, and time will prove it."
"I shall reenter the office on Monday," said. De Vane,'and go to work. My vacation has been quite long
enough."




DE VANE.                   347
" So it has," said Mr. Clarendon, "and I shall expect
you."
"In the mean while," said Mrs. Claendon, "we shall
hope to see you."
De Vane bowed.
"Come with him, Professor Waring," said Mrs. Clarendon.
"Thank you," said Waring, " I shall be happy to do so."
Other persons approaching, Waring and De Vane lifted
their hats and passed on. Seating themselves, at the end
of the walk, upon one of the benches, they surveyed the
animated scene, and a glow of the highest satisfaction
overspread De Vane's face.
"This is a charming place, Waring," said he. "I really
know no place where the same elegance and refinement
are to be found. The place is large' enough to be free
from the petty annoyances of a village, and it is not so
large as to be troubled with the vices of a city. It is full,
too, of animation; never dull, never languid, but always
cheerful."
"So I think," said Waring; " and my attachment to it
has become so strong, that I fear I could not live with
contentment elsewhere."
"Of course not," said De Vane; "that is not to be
thought of. This is our abiding place."
At that moment the gardener came up, his face beaming,
his hat in his hand, and, bowing-very low to De Vane, said:
" How do you do, sir? I'm very glad to see you back
once more."
"Ah! Mr. Swan, I'm glad to see you," said De Vane,
shaking hands with him. " How have you been through
the summer?"
"Very well, I thank you, sir," he replied. "You're
looking very hearty."
"Oh! yes, thank you," said De Vane, "my health is




348                   DE VANE.
excellent. I see that, you still keep your garden in fine
order."
"I'm very mucih obliged to you, sir, for saying so. Let
me cut one or two of my roses for you."  And walking to
one of the beds, he clipped some two or three of the finest
flowers, and returning with them, handed them to De
Vane.
"I know that you are fond of flowers, sir," he said,
"and you see how fine these are."
" Very fine, indeed. Thank you," said De Vane, placing
them in his vest.
"And you will stay here now, sir?" asked the gardener,
with real interest.
"Yes," said De Vane; "this is now my home, and I
shall be often a visitor to your garden."
"You will always be welcome, sir," said Mr. Swan,
bowing low; and bidding good evening to the gentlemen,
he walked away.
" That is one of your prime favorites, De Vane, I believe?"
said Waring.
"Yes," said De Vane, "I like him. He is a capital
gardener, and understands his business thoroughly. It
would surprise you to hear him talk of botany."
"Your friend Hobbs, the blacksmith, is anxious to see
you," said Waring. "He has asked after you several
times."
" Yes," said De Vane, "he is a good friend of mine, and
is really an artist. I must see him, and get him to look
after my horses' shoes at once."
"Let us take a turn through the garden," said Waring,
"and then return. As we are to pass the evening at Mr.
Springfield's, let us go early."
Rising, they walked through a serpentine path, and
emerged, at the end of it, into the street. They met a
number of persons, who stopped to congratulate De Vane




DE VANE.                  349
upon his return, and when they reached Mrs. Bowen's,
the candles were already lighted.
"Shall we go before taking tea?" asked De Vane.
"Oh! yes," said Waring. "Mrs. Springfield will certainly expect us."
"Then," said De Vane, "I will detain you but a
moment;" and going to his room to make some change
in his dress, Waring explained to Mrs. Bowen that they
were going out for the evening, and that they might not
return very early.
"Very well," said Mrs. Bowen. "I understand. And
you are right to go early, for I know that Mr. Springfield
will expect you."




CHAPTER VI.
"SHE is most fair, and thereunto
Her life doth rightly harmonize;
Feeling or thought that was not true
Ne'er made less beautiful the blue
Unclouded heaven of her eyes."
LOWELL.
WARING and De Vane were received at the door by Mr.
Springfield, who gave the young Virginian a warm welcome, and conducted them  to the library.  Mrs. Springfield and Esther were seated near a bright wood fire,
which threw  its cheerful light over the objects in the
room, and tempered the cool October air. The picture
warmed De Vane's heart instantly, and the cheerful, tasteful elegance of the room recalled the past vividly.
Mrs. Springfield advanced to meet him  with cordial
greetings, and, taking his hand, said: " We are very happy to see you, Mr. De Vane; we welcome you with our
hearts."
De Vane bowed very low, and said: " I shall not undertake to say, madam, how happy I am to return.  I thank
you for your welcome."
Esther remained standing at her chair, from which she
had risen as De Vane entered.  Never had she appeared
more splendidly beautiful. Her face was radiant. She
was dressed in rich dark colors; and in her hair a single
crimson rose was worn, lending its fragrance and beauty
to her own charms.
De Vane advanced to her, and gave her his hand, say(350)




DE VANE.                   351
ing: " You see, Miss Wordsworth, that I have made good
my words. I have really been able to resist the attractions of my Virginia home, and I am here once more."
Esther smiled brightly, and said: " We must all thank
you, Mr. De Vane, for your loyalty to this place. Your
friends are very happy to see you here."
Waring obseryed them closely, and he saw how earnestly they both spoke. He saw the mutual consciousness
when their eyes met; and he did not doubt from that moment that'their interest in each other was too deep to be
evanescent. For good or for evil they had met, and all
their future was to take its coloring from that meeting.
He saw this with blended satisfaction and anxiety. He
knew both De Vane and Esther well, and he comprehended how many perils surrounded their path-the aristocratic prejudice of General De Vane; the high self-respect
of Esther, and her firm religious sentiments, both of which
he felt would be able to control her action, even against
her affections; and he could not dismiss from his own heart
a troubled interest in the fortunes of two "beings who
were so dear to him.
De Vane seated himself, and said: " I can never be other
than loyal to this place; it is now my home, and henceforth I am bound to it by every tie of interest and affection."
"Content to give up your Virginia mountains?" said
Waring playfully.
"Reserving the privilege," replied De Vane, " of making them an occasional visit."
"We must give Mr. De Vane the greater credit," said
Esther, "in deciding to reside here, because he has given
up so beautiful a country as the mountain region of Virginia."
"Thank you for your generosity," said De Vane; " you




352                   DE VANE.
have answered Mr. Waring so well that I need say nothing
more in vindication of myself."
"Mr. Waring knows," said Mr. Springfield, "that in
fixing upon this as our residence, we too, yielded up much
that is dear to us. Georgia is a great State, and that part
of it where we resided possesses many attractions."
"Yes," said Waring, "I have often said so to Mr. De
Vane, but he always insisted that nothing could rival the
scenery of his Virginia home."
"I remember," said Esther, " that he was very eloquent
in praise of it, some months since, when we  all met at
Leasowes."
" Yes," said De Vane, "I well remember the conversation; and I think Mr. Waring was equally enthusiastic in
speaking of Georgia. He said something about mountains and cataracts, and seemed somewhat disposed to dispute the claims of Niagara to possess sublimity."
"Then," said Mrs. Springfield, "I think that we may
all congratulate each other upon finding a place like this,
which can compensate us for giving up homes endeared to
us by early associations, and the charms of nature."
"Did you find the journey a pleasant one, Mr. De
Vane?" asked Mr. Springfield.
"The first part of it quite otherwise," said De Vane.
"The mountain streams were so much swollen as to impede my progress seriously, but after that I enjoyed the
travel."
"You did not take the stage-coach, I believe?" said Mr.
Springfield.
"  o," said De Vane; "I traveled with my own horses,
which I found much more agreeable to me."
" Oh! very much more so," said Mr. Springfield.
"We enjoyed the journey," said  Mrs..Springfield,
"greatly. We found every part of it agreeable to us.
The season was a fine one."




DE VANE.                    383
"And the most agreeable part of it," said Esther, "was
in traversing the mountain roads. The streams were clear
and beautiful, and we drove through many of them, the
wheels passing over the graveled beds, without the slightest obstruction. We found the farm-houses, too, positively delightful resting-places: the coldest water,-the purest
milk, the sweetest butter, and the most delicious fruits
refreshed us after the day's travel."
"And the cheapness of every thing," said Mr. Springfield, "was as remarkable as its quality. We had four
horses and our servants, and I could travel at much less
expense than I can stay at home."
" That is remarkable," said Waring. "I found it so in
the eastern part of Tennessee, a country singularly beautiful. If it were on the Continent of Europe, it would be
as attractive to travelers as Switzerland."
"It will yet become so," said De Vane. " It is just now
somewhat inaccessible, and at times almost impassable.
When a thunder-storm  overtakes one, in some of those
mountain gorges, miles away -from any human habitation,
it is a wild sort of thing. I should think the ladies might
find it inconvenient."
"We encountered one," said Esther, "and I really enjoyed it. It was terrific, but yet sublime. And it recalled vividly Lord Byron's description of a storm on the
Alps, which I had read but a little while before."
"And you had no fear?" asked De Vane.
"I was awed," said Esther, "-but I was unconscious of
fear.  The sublimity of the scene filled my soul. And
when the storm passed away, and the sun came forth in
his glory, like a monarch to resume his throne after a battle, throwing his splendor over mountain-peaks, and filling the valley through which we drove with his yellow
beams, I felt that I had never seen any thing half so
lovely."




354                  - DE VANE.
De Vane listened to her description with the deepest interest. Her face glowed with animation, and the dark
splendors of her deep blue eyes was almost dazzling.
"Had you any shelter to protect you from the fury of
the storm?" asked Waring.
"None whatever," she replied, " except a projecting
rock from the mountain-side, which actually trembled with
the reverberations, and heightened the effect of the scene,
making one realize the sublime descriptions of the prophets, which represent the earth as conscious of the dread
majesty of its Maker, when he looks upon it, and touches
the hills."
" I well remember it," said Mr. Springfield. "The horses
shook with fear, and it was no easy matter to control
them."
" I observed the same effect upon mine," said De Vane;
" and they could only be restrained from breaking away by
my voice, which seemed to reassure them, as I spoke to
them in firm, cheerful tones, from time to time. They
would draw nearer to me, as if for protection."
" Your friend and my friend, Mrs. Bowen, seemed very
happy that you have arrived safely," said Mr. Springfield,
smiling.
"Oh! yes," said De Vane, " she gave me a warm welcome; and upon entering my room, I saw that I had not
been forgotten during my absence."
"You may be quite sure of that," said Waring. " I think
that for at least a month past your room has been dusted
every morning, just as if you were expected by sunset."
They all laughed, and Mrs. Springfield said: "She is a
most excellent person, and you are fortunate, Mr. De Vane,
in having so good a friend."
"So I think, madam," said De Vane. "I prize her
highly."
"I think," said Mr. Springfield, "'it would be hard  br




DE VANE.                   355
her to decide whether she was more partial to Mr. De Vane
or to Mr. Waring."
"It certainly would," said Mrs. Springfield, "for she
speaks of you both in terms which imply perfection in
both."''She is really very kind," said Waring; "and I have
no thought of leaving her hospitable home until I set up
my own."
"And have you decided when that is to be?" asked
Mrs. Springfield.
" Oh! no," said Waring; " that is yet in the mists of
the future."
"And will only be disclosed, I suppose," said De Vane,
" when the Maid of the Mist reveals herself in a rainbow
of hope."
"Ah!" said Waring, " you have been reading Sir Walter Scott."
"A very good way of parrying the point," said De
Vane.
"We must insist upon his being more explicit," said
Mrs. Springfield.
De Vane observed that Esther heard the conversation,
playful as it was, with interest.  She was silent, but
aroused and attentive.
" Has he been at all demonstrative in any direction since
I left, Miss Wordsworth?" inquired De Vane.
" Have I Mr. Waring's permission," said Esther, " to report him during the summer?"
" I think," said Waring, " that we should first call upon
Mr. De Vane to give an account of himself during his absence. It is usual for travelers to entertain their friends
upon their return home with a recital of their adventures.
That, at least, is the classical style, and so true a friend to
the classics as Mr. De Vane, can not, I am sure, resist the
examples of Ulysses and IEneas."




356                   DE VANE.
" It would require a summer's day or a winter's evening
at least," said De Vane, "to relate my adventures, and I
insist that so simple a thing as a reply to my question
might be disposed of at once. The adroitness of my friend
in turning the examination from himself to me rather
heightens my interest in the subject."
"So soon as you obtain Mr. Waring's permission," said
Esther, "I shall be happy to relate all that I know of his
adventures during the summer."
" We will wait," said Waring, " until we go out for an
evening's ride, and then you are at liberty to give an account to Mr. De Vane of our summer doings, provided he
in the mean while shall enlighten us as to his own movements."
" What if I have nothing to disclose?" said De Vane.
" That supposition is hardly to be tolerated," said Waring. "Virginia the place and Mr. De Vane the man, these
two being known to us, we can not permit ourselves to
believe that three months could pass by without events
well worthy to be recounted."
"The proposition is stated in a very scholarly way,"
said De Vane, "and is so complimentary to me, that if
there were any thing of interest to relate, I should at once,
like Eneas in the presence of the Carthaginian queen, begin the narration. But mine was a simple visit to an old
home, where I wandered upon the mountains and roamed
through the forests, and saw some few friends of the family, and almost felt myself a boy once more."
"Some fair ladies, of course, you met," said Waring.
" Yes," said De Vane, "the Guilfords, of whom you
have heard me speak, and the Hamiltons, who reside near
us."
"I remember that you spoke of the Hamiltons in one of
your letters," said Waring.
"They are charming people," said De Vane; " much the




DE VANE.                   357
Imost agreeable I met. Elegance without pretension, wealth
without-pride, piety without bigotry, accomplishments
without folly-these are their characteristics."
" They must be charming," said Mrs. Springfield. "I
have heard Bishop Me Kendree speak of them in similar
teiins."
"They are dear friends of the Bishop, I know, madam,"
said De Vane. "They have a son at this time in Europe,
at the University at Heidelberg. Two daughters are with
them. The elder of the two-about eighteen years of age, I
suppose-is faultlessly beautiful, and resembling Miss Godolphin so closely that I was constantly reminded of her."
" She must indeed be beautiful," said Esther.
" Very much so," said De Vane.
" You spoke of the Guilfords," said Waring.
" Yes," said De Vane, "they are intimate with my aunt,
Mrs. De Vane, and I saw them often."
" I have heard Miss Godolphin describe Miss Clara Guilford as very beautiful and accomplished," said Waring.
"She is so," said De Vane, "highly so. A more brilliant person one rarely meets, and she possesses the quality
of preserving her American habits, notwithstanding her
very decided taste for European life. She rides on horseback, over mountains and plains, in the most fearless way,
and I found it actually exhilarating to accompany her in
some of her daring feats. We rode one morning, after a
very early breakfast, to Monticello, Mr. Jefferson's seat,
and finding one of the gates which lay in our way fastened,
she drew back a few steps, and dashing forward, leaped
the fence, her horse clearing it magnificently. I, of course,
followed, and found it somewhat of an exploit."
"Fine," said Waring, "fine; and yet she prefers Europe
to America?"
"She prefers England," said De Vane, " and I think she
will never live in this country with any thing like satis



358                   DE VANE.
faction. She is thoroughly aristocratic, and has many
near relatives in England-some of them  of very high
rank."
"She is very unlike Miss Godolphin, then," said Esther.
"She is wholly American, and yet I believe is nearly related to some of the noble families of England."
"And I admire her for it," said De Vane. "Miss Godolphin is a superior person."
"She is indeed," said Esther. "I have been much with
her through the summer, and I have learned to love her as
much as I admire her. She will be very much pleased to
meet you, Mr. De Vane."
"I shall take an early day to call on her,' said De Vane.
"I bear messages to her from Miss Guilford, which I must
deliver in person."
"They met in Europe, I believe," said Esther. "I have
heard Miss Godolphin speak of her."
"They were much together while abroad," said De
Vane, "and under circumstances of extraordinary interest,
Miss Guilford gave me an extended account of their
travels."
"And yet," said Waring, "the one returns to this country estranged from home, while the other loves it more
intensely than ever."
"Miss Godolphin," said De Vane, " is a person of great
depth of character. She has had a large experience of life
for one so young, and it has not resulted in making her
artificial, but rather in deepening and strengthening the
nobler qualities of her nature."
"Is not that a common experience?" said Esther.
"I think not," said De Vane.  "Very imuch depends
upon organization, however. A noble poet-Lord Byron-~
tells us,'The tree of knowledge is not that of life.'




DE VANE.                      359
His doctrine is that a knowledge of the world exposes its
heartlessness, and disgusts us with life."
" A life of dissipation, a life passed amidst scenes which
ignore the restraints of Christianity and civilization alike,
must disgust us with the world," said Waring, " because
it first disgusts us with ourselves. It is a sorrow that
worketh death."
"That is a very harsh judgment' upon the noble poet,"
said De Vane.  "I firmly believe that Byron was sadly
sinned against. The truth is, when society rises up against
a man who has violated some of its conventionalisms, it is
terrific in its persecution. I regard the whole history of
Lord Byron's life with compassion.  He felt that his race
was making war upon him, and he replied to their assaults
with scorn and indignation. But there breaks through all
this, at times, the cry of a wounded spirit. Is it not his
own sadness that he describes in those lines of inconsolable
sorrow, too deep for the ministering tenderness of heaven
or earth to read-'It is that settled ceaseless gloom
The fabled Hebrew wanderer bore,
Which will not look beyond the tomb,
Yet dares not hope for rest before'?"
"It is dreadful," said Esther. " What wretchedness that
must be which neither heaven nor earth can minister to!
I confess that I am strongly disposed to pity Lord Byron.
Such genius, such unhappiness, such a splendid wreck so
early in life! There was great tenderness in his nature.
It seems to have been perverted by the misguiding hand
of his own mother."
"Yes," said Ile Vane, "your judgment is just.  If he
had married differently, his life would have been a different one. His wife is evidently a cold person-wholly




860                   DE VANE.
under the dominion of the rules of society, which are called
practical, too often but another name for selfishness. The
mother and the wife both helped to ruin him. There was
no sympathy with his real nature, and his infirmities grew
to be crimes against society."
"And do you believe," said Waring, "that there was
any real tenderness in his nature? He was harsh and vindictive. The rules of society which he violated, are essential to its protection."
"There certainly was great tenderness in his nature,"
said Esther. "The opening lines of one of the cantos of
his Childe Harold attest it unmistakably:'Ada, sole daughter of my house and heart,
Is thy face like thy mother's,
My fair child?'
It has been some time since I read the lines, but I believe
I quote them correctly; and I well remember how this
blending of the names of daughter and mother affected
me when I read them, and thought of his exile and his
desolateness-destined never again to see wife or child."
De Vane heard this beautiful, pure being vindicate the
claims of the noble but ruined man to the forbearance of
society, and the tender judgment of a world that survived
him, with the deepest admiration for her courage and her
truth; and even Waring found his heart touched with a
new sympathy for the man whose genius he had admired,
but whose course he unsparingly condemned, because he
thought it likely to mislead others.
A servant entered, and announced to Mrs. Springfield
that supper was on the table. And De Vane, giving his
arm to Esther, said:
"We must, at some future time, renew this discussion."
" Then," said Waring, as they took their seats, " 1 must
find an ally in Miss Godolphin. If I do not misinterpret-a




DE VANE.                    361
remark of hers, she will join me in condemnation of the
noble poet."
"I have the impression" said De Vane, "that she has
seen him. I am very sure that she is familiar with his
history. And I think Miss Guilford informed me that'Miss Godolphin had met Lord-Byron, when she was very
young."
"The critics have treated him with such unfairness,"
said Mr. Springfield, " that I find myself strongly inclined
to search for some ground upon which a man of such
splendid abilities may be vindicated against his accusers."
"His reply to the critics," said Waring, "makes one
half inclined to pity them."
"It is somewhat strange," said Mr. Springfield, "that
Sir Walter Scott not only admired Lord Byron, but felt
for him a sincere friendship."
"Yes," said De Vane, "and Lord Byron felt a true regard for Sir Walter; and their friendship is in itself a
proof that Lord Byron possessed redeeming qualities; for:Sir Walter Scott was a pure man, and no friendship could
have existed on his part toward any man totally abandoned."
" So I think," said Mr. Springfield.
"Miss Godolphin," said Mrs. Springfield, "went to Europe some five or six years since, and she may have met
Lord Byron."
"Yes," said De Vane. "He was then in Italy, projecting his enterprise in behalf of the Greeks; and I know
that some persons, very nearly related to Miss Godolphin,
accompanied him into Greece."
Esther fixed her eyes searchingly upon De Vane's face,
as if she would read his whole meaning. It was clear that
he had touched a topic which interested her, one in some
way connectedwith the history of Miss Godolphin; and
she waited with anxiety to see if he would add any thing
16




362                   DE VANE.
which might make it plain that he was acquainted with it.
But he said nothing more.
" She was the brightest young person at that time," said
Mrs. Springfield, "that I had ever known. Animated,
vivacious, joyous; and so young, yet so cultivated. She
is even more beautiful now than she was then, for her extreme youth was full of promise only, which has now matured into perfection.  She is splendidly beautiful, but
there is a shadow upon her brightness which I do not
comprehend."
De Vane said not a word.
Mr. Springfield said: "I think Miss Godolphin is fast
regaining her cheerfulness. She may have lost some near
relative abroad, which plunged her into grief; but whatever may have caused her sadness, it is evidently passing
away."
"Yes, I think so," said Mrs. Springfield.
" Did you carry out your purpose, Miss Wordsworth,"
asked De Vane, "of taking rides in the saddle?"
"Oh! yes," she replied. I was in the country for some
time with Miss Godolphin, and it was our habit to ride on
horseback daily."
"Yes, sir," said Waring. "I am happy to be able to
assure you that the ladies both ride excellently. They, of
course, ride with grace, and they manage their steeds with
admirable skill."
"I must thank you," said Esther. "I can assure you,
Mr. De Vane, that it is more than Mr. Waring ever said
to us."
"I am bound to make a faithful report to my friend,
Mr. De Vane," said Waring, "of your progress during his
absence. I think I promised something of the kind, did I
not?"
Esther's conscious blush was her only reply; but De
Vane said:




DE VANE.                   363
"I believe it was understood that you were to keep me
informed of events that interested our friends; but he
really wrote so rarely, Miss Wordsworth, that I did not
know but I might be forgotten before my return."
"Wrote so rarely, indeed!" said Waring. "I think I
wrote punctually, every Thursday morning; but I was
absolutely neglected.  Whether I must attribute it to
politics, or to the Virginia ladies, or whatever else, I can
not say; but I received only some two or three letters
from him through the whole summer."
"You know, Waring," said De Vane, "how unjust that
accusation is. I assure you, Mrs. Springfield, that I was
so engrossed with business, that I found but little leisure
for writing to friends; for when I was disengaged from
actual occupation, I found it necessary to ramble through'
the woods to refresh myself. It would have been any
thing but a kindness to inflict letters upon a friend, written
in moments of weariness. And besides this, I was for some
weeks engaged in a struggle to free myself from restraints
about me, which threatened to become life-long, unless I
was vigorous in resisting them; and it would have been
selfish to write under circumstances, when I must have recited to a friend what would not have been agreeable to
him."
"We are so happy to have you with us again, Mr. De
Vane," said Mrs. Springfield, "that we may very well excuse your silence, while engaged in preparations for your
return."
" SoI think," said Mr. Springfield.
" Well," said Waring, "as a general amnesty seems to;be agreed on, I shall not be so unamiable as to disturb it."
"I hope," said De Vane, "that the horseback riding is
not to be relinquished."
"By no means," said Esther. "We must enjoy this
fine season. The evenings are ecol and bracing."




364                    DE VANE.
"I shall enjoy the rides more than I have ever done,"
said Waring; "for my friend, Mr. De Vane, has generously brought me from Virginia a very fine horse."
" That is a treasure," said Mr. Springfield.
" Does he equal Manfred?" asked Esther.
"I think he does, fully," said Waring; " and that is
high praise, you know."
"Manfred?" said De Vane.    I have not the honor of
his acquaintance."
"No," said Waring; " he arrived after your departure.
He is Miss Wordsworth's Arabian."
"Then I hope soon to be introduced to him. Is he an
Arabian?" said De Vane.
" Yes," said Mr. Springfield, " and a very fine animal.
Having a decided taste for horses, I have taken great trouble to secure the best breeds; and I have bestowed the
same care on Esther's plantation that I have on my own.
We own several imported horses, and among them is
Manfred."
"I sympathize strongly with your taste," said De Vane.
"I must show you two of my own horses. They are of
our very best blood, imported into Virginia from England,
and I think an improvement on the original stock."
" They are very fine," said Waring; " but I think that
Mr. De Vane, with his accustomed generosity, has presented to me the finest of the three."
"I am glad that you think so," said De Vane; "but it
would be no easy task to decide between the rival claims
of three animals really so fine."
"I shall take great pleasure in seeing them," said Mi.
Springfield. "The taste for fine horses is one which I
think grows on us. I doubt if we ever lose it. I believe
that Esther has it as intensely as I have."
"I believe so," said Esther. "I care little for fine car



DE VANE.                    365
riages, or luxurious vehicles of any shape. I like them
simply neat. But I do love fine horses."
"You are very unlike the Spanish ladies, then," said
De Vane. "They rejoice in splendid equipages-the harness loaded with plate-and content themselves with
mules to draw them."
"Some of them  are very fine, though," said Waring.
"The Andalisian race is said to rival the finest horses."
" Nothing," said De Vane, -' can ever rival a blooded
horse; and I could not be induced either to ride or drive
any other. But we must arrange for an equestrian excursion very soon, Mliss Wordsworth."
" With pleasure," said Esther.  "But we must first see
Miss Godolphin."
"Of course," said De Vane.  "When shall we call, Mr.
Waring?"
At any moment that it may be agreeable to you," said
Waring.
"Very good," replied De Vane. "Then it shall be
early."
" You will find Mr. Waring," said Esther, "ready to
accompany you, I am sure, at any time."
"Ah! he is not reluctant, then, to place himself in danger," said De Vane.
"He has shown some courage in that way during the
summer," said Esther,' and I suppose has los t nothing of
his spirit."
"I think, Professor," said Mr. Springfield, "that your
friends are so much interested in you, they observe your
movements."
"I regard it as a compliment," said Waring; "and I
frankly admit that one who visits Miss Godolphin often,
will find -it no easy task toremain indifferent to her
charms; but I have so long escaped danger, that I am not
easily alarmed."




366                    DE VANE.
"Take care, Mr. Waring," said Mrs. Springfield.  "I
think Miss Godolphin very fascinating."
" I freely confess that," said Waring.
" No one can dispute it who knows her," said De Vane.
" She is very attractive."
" She has made a great impression since her return from
Europe," said irs. Springfield. " I hear every one speak
of her in terms of the highest admiration." 
" The real nobleness of her nature can only be appreciated by those who know her well," said Esther.
"And has Mr. Waring learned to know her well?"
asked De Vane.
" He must answer for himself," said Esther. " He certainly has had the opportunity to learn her real character."
" Come," said Mrs. Springfield, " I shall protest against
Professor Waring's being so closely pressed."
"Thank you, madam," said Waring.  "It is not the
first time you have shown yourself my friend."
"Mrs. Springfield has rescued you at a very critical
conjuncture," said De Vane, laughing.  "At some time,
Miss Wordsworth, we must attack him when he is not
supported by his allies."
Rising, they returned to the library, where the conversation became general, turning upon the state of the country, at that time much excited by the presidential canvass, just drawing toward its close.
After some time, De Vane requested Esther to give them
some music; and conducting her to the piano, she took
up some new sheets of music, which had been placed there
that day for the first time.
" What shall I sing, Mir. De Vane?" asked Esther.
"You must do me the favor to make your own selec
tion," he replied.
"Then," she said, " I will sing one of the songs of Lord




DE VANE.                    367
Byron, of whom we have just been speaking. I never saw
the music before to-day, but it rivals the lines, and that
is great praise."
"Ah! and what are the lines?" asked De Vane.
"They are one of the Hebrew melodies of the noble
poet; sad, of course, but exquisitely tender and beautiful," said Esther.  "He calls them Herod's Lament for
Mariamne; and they are founded upon the account in
Jewish history of the murder of that beautiful woman, by
a misinterpreted order of Herod, upon his departure for
battle."
She sang the lines with matchless pathos, giving to
them  a depth and tenderness which were irresistible.
When she ceased, every one in the room was in tears, De
Vane striving in vain to repress his emotion.
"VWonderful!" exclaimed Waring.   Absolutely wonderful! I never comprehended the anguish which Herod
must have felt, until now. It is the saddest incident in
history-the murder of the beautiful Mariamne, and the
impotent rage and self-accusing remorse of Herod upon his
return."
"I do not know," said De Vane, " whether the lines or
the music affect us most. There is wonderful pathos in
both. Thanks, Miiss Wordsworth: I have once more heard
music."
Esther rose from  the instrument, and soon after the
gentlemen took their leave.
"Waring," said De Vane, "Miss Wordsworth is the
most extraordinary person I have ever known. Her accomplishments alone would make her peerless; but when
you regard her character, she is absolutely wonderful. I
have compared her with others, and when absent from-her,
thought that some might rival her in personal charms and
accomplishments; but since I have seen her once more, I




868                   DE VANE.
do not hesitate to pronounce her superior to any woman
on earth."
" I am not surprised to hear you speak of her in such
terms," said Waring. "She is a very lovely person, and
her whole life is as remarkable as her beauty and her accomplishments."
"You heard me speak of Miss Guilford this evening,"
said De Vane. " Itwas the aim of my aunt to bring about
our marriage. Her soul was interested in it. I never
witnessed so intense a desire on the part of any one to accomplish an object; and we were thrown with each other
on every occasion. We rode together, walked together, read
the same books, conversed without reserve; each studied
the other; and I found her a splendidly beautiful and accomplished woman. She evidently regarded me as lawful
spoil, and looked upon me as her captive from the first
hour we met. But while she interested me, and filled me
with admiration, my heart was as tranquil as if I had been
studying a historical personage, or looking daily upon a
being of another realm, with whom it was impossible to
feel a living sympathy."
"I felt a little nervous about you," said Waring, " though
I said nothing of it in my letters to you."
"There was not the slightest occasion for it," said De
Vane. " My aunt, who is really a noble woman, at length
became satisfied that I could never love Clara Guilford;
and she has too much heart to wish me to marry one whom
I could not love, so that she reluctantly relinquished her
scheme. She then spoke to me about Miss Wordsworth,
remarking that I had written of her in glowing terms,
and that she feared for me. She spoke with kindness, but
perfect frankness, and said that it would make my father
very unhappy if he supposed it possible that I could ever
form such a connection; that she knew he would never
require me to marry any woman who was distasteful to




DE VANE.                   369
me; but that she was equally sure he would never give
his consent to my marrying any one at all inferior to me
in social position. Wealth he cared nothing about. We
had that. But social position he did value. I then gave
my aunt an account of Miss Wordsworth throughout;
described her as she is-her beauty of person, her accomplishments, her intellect, her character, her self-sacrificing
life, her freshness, her soul. In short, I said to her all that
you can imagine I would say of such a woman; and I saw
that my aunt was interested.'But then,' said she,'she
is a Methodist, and the daughter of a Methodist preacher,
and your father will never tolerate that.' I insisted that
such a prejudice was unworthy of any one, and that I was
sure my father was too noble to suffer it to sway him, if
he could but know Miss Wordsworth. I spoke of Mr.
and Mrs. Springfield, and of yourself, Waring; and she
became deeply interested. From day to day she spoke of
the matter to me; asked minutely about Miss Wordsworth, and, indeed, about you all; and I saw that she
was fast coming over to my side. She has great confidence in two things-my pride and my truthfulness.
Miss Guilford had described Miss Godolphin to my aunt,
and' when she found that she was intimate with Miss
Wordsworth, who was at that time actually her guest, as
you wrote me, it effected quite a revolution in her sentiments. I said to my aunt that I felt the greatest interest
in Miss Wordsworth, but that I had never made up my
own mind in regard to our future relations, and that, of
course, I had never spoken to her on the subject, nor could
I know how she regarded me. My aunt seemed to fancy
that Miss Wordsworth was too much engrossed with her
benevolent and romantic scheme, as she called it, at Leasowes, ever to relinquish it, and that she could not make
any man a good wife, unless she abandoned it, so far, at
least, as to intrust it to others. But I became satisfied
16*




370                   DE VANE.
that I should find a warm supporter in Mrs. De Vane, if
it ever became necessary to appeal to her, in a contest
with my father, respecting Miss Wordsworth.
" I have spoken to you, Waring, with great frankness.
My interview with Miss Wordsworth has reawakened all
my interest in her. She is transcendently lovely; and she
is the only woman who really ever made any impression
upon my heart."
In their conversation, they had unconsciously extended
their walk far beyond their- lodgings. They stood now
near the College grounds; and the scattered lights in the
windows showed that some of the students were yet busy
with their books.
"De Vane," said Waring, "I am very glad that you
have spoken to me. From the first day that we met each
other within those walls, that now stand out against the
starlit sky, I have felt an interest in you, which has deepened into unchanging friendship.  My regard for Miss
Wordsworth is as great as it is for yourself  Never until
this evening, did I comprehend the nature of the interest
which you feel in her. Allow me to say, that when you
met, I observed you, and I became satisfied instantly, that
what I had supposed might be only admiration, was something deeper and intenser. It has filled me with anxiety.
I speak frankly; for I am too deeply interested in you to
speak with indifference, or in the language of complaint.
You might well hope to interest any woman. But there
are great barriers between yourself anld Miss Wordsworth.
She is as proud as you are. A loftier spirit I never knew.
She would suffer martyrdom rather than yield to a sentiment which she thought should be checked and restrained."
"But what barriers can there be?" exclaimed De Vane
impatiently.
"The aristocratic position and unyielding prejudices of




DE VANE.                   871
General De Vane, and your own want of sympathy with
the religious views of AMiss Wordsworth."
De Vane was silent. Ile put his arm in that of Waring,
and they retraced their steps.
Rising clouds swept over the heavens.  The whole
Southern sky was dark, and as the night-breeze strengthened, the stars began to disappear. In spite of his own
judgment, De Vane felt saddened by the aspect of the
heavens. That lurking belief in the sympathy of nature
with our fortunes, and of its power to foreshadow coming
events, which we all experience, caused him to turn his
eyes anxiously upon the darkening sky; and he found
more to cheer him than he would admit to himself, when
the freshening wind drove the clouds before it, and he
saw through the rifts a star shedding its radiance calmly
amidst the suriounding gloom, and lighting the Southern
horizon with its lustre, when blankness covered the face
of every other planet that burned in the firmament.




CHAPTER VII.
WHAT is your substance, whereof are you made,
That millions of strange shadows on you tend?
Since every one hath, every one, one shade,
And you, but one, can every shadow lend.
SHAKESPEARE.
THE next morning, when De Vane and Warlng were
seated at the breakfast-table, Mr. Swan, the public gardener, entered, bearing a most elaborate bouquet. Advancing
to De Vane, he made him a set speech, expressing his gratification at his return, wishing him the greatest prosperity, and concluding by asking him to be so condescending
as to accept the flowers which he had gathered from  his
garden.  De Vane thanked him  for his kindness, and assured him that he appreciated the flowers, which were
really beautiful; and then Mr. Swan, making a bow which
was intended to be magnificent, retired.
"Those flowers are rare and beautiful," said Waring;
" and Mr. Swan is certainly an admirer."
" Yes," said Mrs. Bowen, " that Mr. Swan is really a
nice man; he seems to be very well disposed."
" He is quite an ardent friend of Mr. De Vane," said
Waring; " and that, of course, argues a certain degree of
merit in the man himself."
" Thank you," said De Vane.  " But Mr. Swan is really
a good man; he loves his calling, and extends his regards
naturally to any one who sympathizes with his taste. I
was able to explain to him, at one time, the history of.a
(372)




DE VANE.                  387
tulip of extraordinary beauty, very rarely seen in this
country, and; he has been my friend. from that hour."
" Ranking you for wisdom with King Solomon himself,"
said Waring, " who spoke of trees, from  the cedar-tree
that is Lebanon, even unto the hyssop that springeth out
of the wall."
"Then he greatly overrates my knowledge," said De
Vane, laughing.
After breakfast, De Vane called Cemsar to him, and instructed him to show his servant the way to Mr. Springfield's. He then handed to Tully a sihall silver waiter,
upon which the bouquet was placed, with a note addressed
to liss Wordsworth, and directed him to deliver it to her
servant.
Tully, returning some time after, brought a note on his
waiter, which he presented to his master. It was the first
note that De Vane had ever received from Esther, and its
perfectly graceful and faultless style, while it did not
surprise-certainly charmed him. He placed it with his
treasures.
In the evening, Waring proposed to De Vane that they
should walk to the river, and they turned their steps in
that direction. Reaching the mill, they stood to admire
the scene. The flashing water flew in silver spray from
the wheel; the river rushed over the rocks, which strove
in vain to impede its course. Evergreen trees hung over
its banks, and the vine dipped its red berries in the stream,
while the sunbeams flamed over the picture, giving it a
warm coloring.
"How beautiful this is!" said Waring. "Do you remember, De Vane, that we took this very walk about
twelve months since?"'
"Perfectly well," said De Vane; " and every thing vividly recalls it. It seems a great while, when I look back,
and yet but twelve months have gone by; but what event



374                   DE VANE.
fil months! I can scarcely recognize myself. The truth
is, we date the length of existence by our emotions."
"True, most true," said Waring. " We have no actual
measure of time but consciousness."
Following the wincings of the stream, they came to the
road leading from the ferry; and involuntarily both paused,
and both were silent. With De Vane memory was busy,
and Waring respected his emotions. The past rose before
them both. The brilliant evening, the glowing western
sky, the waters reddening under the glancing sunlight,
the ferry-boat still plying between the rising banks-all
were before them once more. De Vane saw through the
luminous past the traveling-carriage, the party following
it as it ascended the hill, and Esther in her glorious youthful beauty; and he felt that his real existence had taken
its conscious vitality from that moment.
" Yes, it is true," said De Vane. "We live only as the
soul receives its impressions. It sheds its own inherent
light upon the outward world."
He spoke unconsciously. His eyes were fixed upon the
stream, which flowed swiftly on its shining way, in itself.
a picture of human life: sometimes brightened by the
splendors of the sun, then darkened by overhanging shadows; but, whether in sunshine or shadow, gliding onward to the wide sea.
Turning away from the scenery which so much interested them, they retraced their steps; and just as they were
crossing the main street, near the State House, the splendid equipage of Mrs. Habersham drove up. Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin both recognized De Vane, and
the coachman being ordered to draw up his horses, the
gentlemen advanced to the carriage.
"We are delighted to see you, Mr. De Vane," said Miss
Godolphin, extending her hand to him, " and we give you
a warm welcome."




DE VANE.                   875
Mrs. Habersham, too, shook his hand with real pleasure,
and said: " Yes Mr. De Vane, we are happy to see you
once more."
De Vane made his acknowledgments for their graciousness, and Waring coming up, they entered into conversation with the ladies, which was closed, after some minutes,
by an invitation to them to pass the evening at Mrs. Habersham's, an invitation readily accepted; and the spirited
horses dashed away once more.
" How resplendent Miss Godolphin is!" said De Vane.
" I never saw her looking so well."
" She is brilliant," said Waring.
" Have you seen much of her through the summer?"
asked De Vane.
" Yes," replied Waring. " I have been much with her.
She is deeply interested in the subject of religion, and is
an earnest seeker after the right way. With all her intellect, she is child-like-not childish, which is a widely different thing, but simple, truthful, guileless."
De Vane heard Waring's glowing tribute with interest,
and he observed how much his ardor in speaking of Miss
Godolphin had increased, since his recent intercourse with
her had enabled him to study her character more closely.
It was not to be wondered at; no one could know her
without coming within the range of her fascination. Early in the evening they made their visit.  They were
received by Mrs. Habersham  and AMiss Godolphin with
marked cordiality, and the tea service was immediately
brought in. The elegance, indeed the splendor of every
thing-the furniture, the pictures, the statuary-imparted
an aristocratic aspect to the house, rarely seen in this
country; and the tastes of both the ladies were understood to partake of the same character. A certain hauteur appeared in the manner of Mirs. Habersham, and there
was a stateliness about Mliss Godolphin that repelled many,




376                   DE VANE.
who thought her pride quite equal to that of her aunt.
They recognized De Vane as a peer from the first; and
they had learned to appreciate Waring-to comprehend
the elevation of his character and the high order of his
abilities-by an intercourse with him which had now become so well established, that he was always received as
a friend. His fine sense, his large attainments, his pure
and yet warm nature, had won upon them both; and Miss
Godolphin had unconsciously become deeply interested in
him. All unacquainted with the cause of her occasional
sadness, Waring saw so much to admire in the high qualities of Miss Godolphin, that he found a strange pleasure
in her society; and his visits of late had become so frequent, as to attract the observation of his friends. Mr.
and Mrs. Springfield, of course, could not be ignorant of
his growing interest in her, and they had once or twice
spoken to him playfully in regard to it. This evening De
Vane became satisfied that his friend's interest in Miss
Godolphin was really deep, and he felt that he could no
longer forbear to disclose to him all that he had learned
respecting her history from Miss Guilford during his late
visit to Virginia. It so happened that the conversation
turned upon subjects which touched European events.
" And you met the Guilfords, Mr. De Vane, when in Virginia, did you not?" asked Miss Godolphin.
"Often, very often. They are near neighbors; and Mrs.
De Vane and Mrs. Guilford have long been friends," replied De Vane.
" We traveled with them so long in Europe," said Miss
Godolphin, " that we knew them well. Not only were we
with them on the Continent, but we were much together
in England. Are her tastes as English as ever?"
"Quite," said De Vane. "She is to go out again early
next spring."
"It does not surprise me," said Miss Godolphin. " She




DE VANE.                     877
can never be happy in this country. England is, in all
respects, suited to her tastes."
"That is the conclusion that I reached," said De Vane.
"She is a person of extraordinary beauty," said Miss
Godolphin, " and her accomplishments are rare. I felt a
little curious to know how you withstood her attractions."
"I am so patriotic," said De Vane, "that I found myself
in perpetual antagonism with Miss Guilford. Our disputes
ran so high, that Mrs. De Vane found it necessary sometimes to interfere, for the preservation of amicable relations.
She charged me with a want of loyalty to my caste, and I
retorted by charging upon her a want of loyalty to the
country; so that you may imagine the disputes ran high."
Miss Godolphin laughed heartily.  "And so you were
not ensnared?" she said.
" Oh! no," said De Vane.  " There was a state of quasihostilities between us all the while, and she at length gave
me up to my degenerate tastes."
"Clara Guilford," said Miss Godolphin, "is a splendid
person-intellectual, accomplished, full of animation and
energy; but she is wholly unsuited to this country. Nothing short of a visit to Europe every year or two will content her; and where, one is so wholly dependent upon
society for happiness, I can not believe that there is much
heart. Yet she certainly is not destitute of feeling."
"No," said De Vane. " She possesses sensibility-a high
degree of it; and it may be that she is not incapable of
forming a very strong attachment. But I should fear that
her tastes would interfere with it. She loves rank, splendor, the great world; and if she should encounter a reveise, if an eclipse should come over her fortunes, I do
not know how she would bear it."
"I never thought her capable of feeling what I should
call a strong attachment," said Miss Godolphin.
Mrs. Habersham and Waring had been in conversation,




378                    DE VANE.
but as Miss Godolphin said this, he fixed his eyes on her
with a steadfast gaze, and was silent.
Mrs. Habersham observed this, and said:
"Who are you discussing, Hortensia? You must permit Mr. Waring and myself to share it."
" I was speaking with Mr. De Vane," she said, " of a
friend of ours in Virginia. Do you not remember Clara
Guilford?"
"Perfectly well," said Mrs. Habersham; " the most brilliant person we met in Europe."
".So I remember you thought her," said Miss Godolphin.
" Mr. De Vane has been much with her through the summer, and has returned unscathed by her charms."
"That is very wonderful," said Mrs. Habersham. "I
never met a more attractive person. How did you escape,
Mr. De Vane?"
" It must be, madam, some defect in myself, some insensibility to such charms; or it may be that I was shielded
by some invisible goddess, as Eneas was sometimes protected when in danger."
"There may be much truth in what you say," said Miss
Godolphin mischievously.
" Nothing else can account for it," said Mrs. Habersham.
" Do you not say so, Mr. Waring?"
" The extreme danger that Mr. De Vane was in, and the
extraordinary escape which he has made, would seem to
authorize such a conjecture," said Waring.    Mr. De Vane
well knows that one of the rules of dramatic classical art
is, never to introduce a celestial being, without something
worthy of such interference should demand it; and I suppose the rule has not been violated in his case."
" But who is the celestial being that interposed?" asked
Miss Godolphin.
" Some one it must have been that felt a deep interest in
Mr. De Vane's welfare," said WVaring.




DE VANE.                    379
" And lovely enough to rank with celestials, of course,"
saicl Miss Godolphin.
" It seems to me that you are combining against Mr. De
Vane," said Mrs. Habersham.  "I must really take part
with him."
"Very well, aunt," said Miss Godolphin; " if you think
it necessary to succor one who is aided by some celestial
being."
"I am grateful to you, Mrs. Habersham, for your friendly sympathy," said De Vane.' I did not understand their object when I made my remark as to the mode of your escape from Miss Guilford's
charms, Mr. De Vane, I assure you. HIortensia is, I see,
somewhat disposed to persecute you this evening."
" No one can be more innocent than I am, aunt. Mr.
De Vane himself first suggested the nature of the assistance he had received; and I was only curious to know
something of the personnel of a being at once so benevolent and so charming. Are you sure ab6out her wings?"
" To all of which I can say nothing," said De Vane. "-If
I am indebted to celestial aid at all for my escape from the
charms of Miss Guilford, the being who succored me was
invisible. I only intended to assure you, in the most emphatic way, of my insensibility. Of that, there can be no
doubt."
"Perhaps the revealing future may yet bring to our
view the friendly goddess," said Miss Godolphin.
" If so," said De Vane, "I shall gratefully acknowledge
her kind offices, and submit myself unfalteringly to her
guidance."
" You could not do better, I assure you, than to do so,"
said Waring.  "It sometimes happens in life, it may be,
that an impression made on us, of which we are ourselves
scarcely conscious, renders us insensible to the attractions
of all the world besides, however it may array itself afterward."




380                   DE VANE.
Miss Godolphin's face was a study. The light which
illumined it had been unusually brilliant.-never more so.
It was the cloudless sky of a summer day; but now a
cloud stole over it, dimming its splendor. She was silent.
Waring observed it, and was embarrassed. De Vane saw
that the subject must be changed, and he said to Miss
Godolphin that he had heard, since his arrival, of her
growing taste for equestrian excursions.
"Mr. Waring informs me," he said, " that he had the
pleasure of joining you in several rides during the summer."
" Yes," she replied,'' Mr. Waring was good enough to
accompany Miss Wordsworth- and myself several times;
and when in the country, we often rode the whole morning without any one to attend us. We found it delightful."
"I hope that you will not discontinue the habit," said
De Vane. " I have been promising myself the pleasure of
attending you frequently. Miss Wordsworth assures me
that she will be ready to accompany us."
" Thank you," said Miss Godolphin. " I shall be happy
to joinyou at any time.'
" Then," said De Vane, " we will make an early arrangement for a ride. Mr. Waring will, of course, join us?"
" With the greatest pleasure," said Waring. " The fall
is beautiful; and in fine weather, I much prefer the saddle
to a carriage of any description."
It was settled that during the next week they should
begin their excursions.
De Vane requested Miss Godolphin to give them some
music.
" Do you prefer the harp or the piano?" she asked.
"Which shall it be, Mr. Waring?" said De Vane.
" With Mbiss Godolphin's voice, I prefer the harp," said
Waring.
She instantly rose, and took her seat by the instrument.




DE VANE.                     381
Her fingers swept its chords with marvelous skill; and
after playing a symphony of exquisite beauty, she sang
those lines of Moore, so full of tender sympathy,
"Has sorrow thy young days shaded?"
And the deep, almost spiritual tenderness of her tones
affected those who heard her indescribably. It was as if
an angel, saddened by some scene of the past, forgot for
a moment the bliss of heaven, and touched the harp attuned for celestial melody, with the tones of earthly sorrow. As the last lines were uttered by her, her clasped
hands, half hidden by the drapery of her dress, disclosed
the strength of her own emotions. For some minutes she
did not move, and then rising slowly, she seated herself
near Mrs. Habersham.
" Thank you," said De Vane. "There are no songs like
those of Moore. Their beauty and tenderness are inimitable."
" It is wonderful," said Miss Godolphin, " that a person
so gay as Moore should have been able to write as he
does. He must have suffered."
" Qne would suppose so," saidWVaring.  " It is said that
a comedian in Paris, who drew immense crowds night after
night, to witness his unrivaled gayeties, called on an
eminent physician, to consult him in regard to a depression of spirits which he could not shake off, and which he
therefore thought must be the result of physical disorganization. He called incognito; and the physician, unable
to discover any symptoms of disease, advised him to visit
the theatre, and witness the performances of the celebrated Monsieur Vaudeville, then attracting such audiences.'Alas!' exclaimed the actor,'I am  that very
Monsieur Vaudeville.' So little can we judge of the inte-.
rior nature by outward gayety. It may be so with Moore."




882                   DE VANE.
"Moore sings his own songs exquisitely," said Miss.Godolphin. "We heard-him in London. He sat down
quickly when invited to sing, ran his fingers over the keys
of the instrument, and then sang like an improvisatore,
giving the fullest effect to every, sentiment, by his manner
of uttering the words. I remember that on one occasion,
in the presence of a somewhat large company, he sang one
of his melodies with such resistless pathos, that every one
sympathized with him; and when it was ended, he rose
from his seat, bowed to the lady whose reception he
graced with his presence, and glided from  the room.
Something was said by one of the party, within my hearing, of an early attachment between himself and the lady
at whose house we were entertained."
" There is enough in the condition of his country to
awaken his patriotism," said De Vane. "I wonder that
he has not written mnore on that subject than he has.
Some of his national songs are very fine."
"He is much in England," said Miss Godolphin, " and
welcomed by the aristocratic circles, not only of London,
but in the country; and this, of course, while it does not
lessen his loyalty to Ireland, softens the asperity which
characterizes all that is written by most men of genius in
that country."
Yet," said Waring, "nothing can be finer than some
of his tributes to Ireland."
" Oh! unquestionably," said De Vane. "Some of them
would rouse Ireland to flame, if they could be sung or
recited throughout the country, as the ancient bards rehearsed their poems in the midst of their countrymen.
After some formal conversation upon local topics, the
gentlemen took their leave of the ladies, and walked slowly
homeward.
"You must have observed, De Vane," said Waring,
"how sudden the change in Miss Godolphin's spirits wafs,




DE VANE.                   383
and it was evidently caused by the conversation upon the
subject of some reigning attachment, which made it impossible for one who had experienced it to feel any deep
interest in another afterward. What does it mean? Can
it be possible that she has loved, and loved hopelessly?
One can hardly suppose so. And yet there are circumstances which, at times, almost satisfy me that it is so.
What do you think of it?"
"There are recollections," said De Vane, "which sadden Miss Godolphin.  I learned her history from  Miss
Guilford.  It is proper that I should make known to
you what has been stated to me. I should have written
to you in regard to it, but I was unwilling to commit
to paper statements of such extreme delicacy connected
with the name of a lady.
"It seems that when Miss Godolphin went to Europe,
now nearly five years since, when she was very young,
that she passed the first six months in England with her
relatives. She was much admired, and received attentions from  several gentlemen, who saw her. at the residence of her uncle, Sir George Godolphin. His only son,
at that time barely twenty-two years of age, became very
strongly attached to Miss Godolphin, and addressed her.
She rejected him; and finding her stay under the same
roof with her cousin embarrassing to both, she prevailed
on Mrs. Habersham  to go to the Continent. Passing
through Paris, after a brief visit to that city, they proceeded to Italy, and took up their residence there. Lord
Byron was at that time residing near the place where they
had fixed their own residence, and was projecting his enterprise for aiding Greece in her great struggle for independence. He saw the ladies, and sometimes visited them.
At this time young Godolphin, unable to conquer his passion, came to Italy, and renewed his suit to Miss Godoljphin. He urged her to reconsider her resolution-to per



384                   DE VANE.
mit him to hope-to subject him to any probation, that he
might satisfy her of the unconquerable strength of his
love. She was touched by his ardor and constancy, but
still steadily refused to contract any engagement with him.
Young Godolphin remained with them, joined them in
their excursions, and made the acquaintance of Lord
Byron. Miss Godolphin herself had caught the enthusiastic interest in the fortunes of Greece which filled the
soul of the noble poet; and she expressed the wish in the
presence of her cousin, that she could do something to
aid that heroic people, struggling for liberty. Inflamed
with the hope of acquiring some real interest in the heart
of Miss Godolphin, by offering his services to Greece, and
sharing, too, the enthusiasm which fired Lord Byron, he
devoted himself to the same cause.
"Miss Godolphin encouraged his purpose, and for the
first time really regarded him with admiration. Young,
noble, accomplished, and generous, he might well interest
any woman. His fortune was very large, and he employed
much of it in the cause which he had espoused.  The
whole energy of his nature was enlisted-for he never did
any thing by halves.
" He accompanied Lord Byron when he entered Greece,
and perished in an engagement in which he took part, soon
after the death of the noble poet. Sir George Godolphin
was overwhelmed with grief, when the tidings of the deathof his son reached him; and wrote to Miss Godolphin, reproaching her in bitter terms, as the cause of the desolation of his house.
"She was plunged into deep grief. Her own spirit gave
the keenest edge to the accusations of Sir George. She
felt that she had inflamed the ambition of the generous
man who loved her so ardently, and she could not still the
voice of her own soul, which spake to her in tones of anguish, of the fatal effects of her visit to the house of her




DE VANE.                   385
uncle, then so bright and happy, now so dark and desolate. If she could have brought herself to yield to the
passionate entreaties of her cousin, all might have been
averted; but then she did not love him. She might have
done so in time; but she had searched her young, true
heart, and- found it impossible to promise him any thing
which could encourage him. Then ambition, rising up
within him, while love was yet unconquered, impelled him
to the step which sacrificed his own life, brought darkness
upon the stately towers of his ancestral home, and threw a
rayless shadow upon the morning of her life.
" You comprehend now, much that has seemed so mysterious to us in the manner of Miss Godolphin."
"Yes, yes," said Waring, "I see it all. Self-accusing,
full of remorse, she has mourned young Godolphin as none
but the most generous natures can mourn the dead. The
youth, the ardor, the enthusiasm, the self-sacrificing spirit
of the man whom she could not love while living, all conspire to make her love his memory."
"It is the settled opinion of Miss Guilford," said De
Vane, "that Miss Godolphin not only never loved her
cousin, but that she never could have done so. She observed their intercourse, and knew the sentiments of Miss
Godolphin well. She attributes her sadness, which was
much greater formerly than it is now, to remorse. She
fancies that the fate of young Godolphin was caused by
herself, and she has tortured herself, as a generous and
strong nature will do, under such circumstances. She is
satisfied that this is the true solution of Miss Godolphin's
grief. She had brilliant offers while abroad, from English
gentlemen, and from her own countrymen, but she rejected them in every instance, unhesitatingly."
De Vane was full and emphatic in this statement, from
a desire to relieve Waring of that apprehension which he
knew he must entertain of the nature of Miss Godolphin's
17




886                    DE VANE.
sadness. He saw how deep his interest in her was-too
deep now to be concealed; and from a generous sympathy with his friend, he sought to remove the slightest
ground for the belief that she had ever loved.
"Thank you, De Vane, for your kindness," said Waring. "I comprehend Miss Godolphin now. She is an
extraordinary woman, whose glorious nature has been
too long darkened by sorrow-sorrow that she should
never have indulged. I am greatly relieved. I confess to
you that my interest in her is very strong. Her generous
reception of me from the first hour of our acquaintance;
her glorious scorn of all little and contemptible conventionalisms; her grand love of truth wherever she sees it;
her beautiful appreciation of what is good, whether inf
high life or humble life-all this, and much more, has won
me, in spite of my reserve and caution. Still I could not
banish some distrust. I feared that she had loved, and
loved hopelessly; and to one of my nature, this would
have. been intolerable. I am greatly relieved. I did not
comprehend until now, the extent of my interest in Miss
Godolphin."
"I rejoice to be able to contribute any thing to your
happiness," said De Vane. " I have observed your interest in Miss Godolphin, and I felt it my duty to make
known to you the statement which I had from Miss Guilford. She speaks with enthusiasm of Miss Godolphin, and
wonders that any one can withstand her charms."
"So do I," said Waring earnestly and quickly, and with
perfect simplicity.
"It does not surprise me to hear you say so," said De
Vane. "But fortunately, the fatal arrows from one quiver
do not pierce all hearts, otherwise the world would be in
a hopeless state."
"Certainly," said Waring, laughing, "certainly-you
are right."




DE VANE.                   387
"So excuse me for not attempting to rival you," said
De Vane.
"I am, De Vane, under great obligations to you for your
forbearance," said Waring. "I do not know how Miss
Godolphin may regard my presumption, but I certainly
can never regard any other woman than herself, as entitled
to the homage of my heart."
"Presumption, indeed!" said De Vane. " Any woman
on earth might feel herself honored by your addresses. If
I do not misinterpret Miss Godolphin, she is capable of
appreciating you: She is a noble woman, and her soul
rises above the distinctions which some regard as so vast
and so important."
They had reached home; but neither felt inclined to
sleep. They sat down in Waring's room, and De Vane,
opening the melodeon-which he had not touched since his
return-played a grand old piece. Through the notes there
rolled the exultant tone of youth and hope; and as he concluded it, the volume of sound, rising beyond the limits of
the apartment, floated out upon the night air, and was
borne toward the heavens, which, bending over the earth,
seemed to sympathize with human hearts, and to cheer all
souls which could look away from the present and the
actual, to the invisible but still real and revealing future.




CHAPTER  VIII.
"SHE her throne makes Reason climb,
While wild passions captive lie,
And each article of time,
Her pure thoughts to heaven fly;
All her vows religious be,
And she vows her love to me."
WILLIAM HABINOTON.
SOIME engagement took Waring to the College, the next
morning, Saturday as it was, and De Vane walked to Leasowes.  He had not visited it since his return, and he
felt a strong inclination to walk through the grounds. It
was not at all certain that he should meet Esther, as it
was only occasionally that she visited the place on Saturday; but he wished to visit walks so endeared to him by
associations. He entered the grounds at about ten o'clock
in the forenoon, and turning to the right, walked slowly
through the wild orange trees, whose branches, trimmed
in a tasteful way, suffered the sunlight to fall upon the
graveled walks, as through the windows of a cathedral
upon its paved floor.  No one was visible; and seating
himself at length upon one of the iron settees, he recalled
the morning when, walking by the side of Esther by this
very spot, he had named her place Leasowes. The warmth
of his manner had, on that occasion, startled her. He had
observed it, and he had restrained himself afterward, up
to the very hour of his departure from Virginia. Even
then he had asked no more than to be admitted upon a
footing of fiiendship-friendship in a high sense, but only
(388)




DE VANE.                   389
friendship. His future was at that time all uncertain. His
residence had not then been fixed-at least, his own selection was open to objections which his father might urgenor had he then satisfied -himself as to the nature and
strength of his sentiments respecting Esther. But now no
question could be raised as to where his home was to be,
nor could he longer doubt that he loved with all the energy of his nature. Why, then, should he longer delay a
frank declaration of his love? Why should he leave himself in doubt as to Esther's interest in him? Why hesitate
to obey the strong promptings of his own heart?
After sitting for a half-hour almost unconscious of his
surroundings, he heard voices in a neighboring walk, and
he instantly recognized them. Miss Godolphin and Esther
were in earnest conversation.  He heard his own name
mentioned by Miss Godolphin, and he at once rose and
walked away, feeling that he ought not to hear a conversation which was not intended for his ear. Passing into
another walk, he pursued it until it emerged at the base of
the hill where the fountain was throwing its bright waters
into the pure morning sunlight, and he seated himself upon
the very spot which he occupied when he had last met
Esther here. Again memory was busy. The past was recalled; and the beautiful, clear truthfulness of Esther, her
modest yet noble utterance of her sentiment, her glowing
beauty-all were before him. He had risen from his seat,
and was looking over the railing that surrounded the marble basin into which the waters of the fountain fell, perfectly abstracted Gfom all  the objects about him, when he
was startled by a voice very near him: " Good morning!
Mr. De Vane. I welcome you once morie to Leasowes."
He started, and turning, saw Esther. There she stood
in her resplendent beauty, more elaborately and elegantly
dressed than was usual with her when at Leasowes, and




390                   DE VANE.
her manner so playful and bright, that De Vane felt he had
never seen her when she appeared so lovely.
"I owe you an apology, Miss Wordsworth," he said,
"for trespassing upon your seclusion here without your
permission, but I could not resist my wish to visit this
spot once more."
"Permission!" said Esther. "Do you not remember
that I gave you. an invitation long since to visit Leasowes
whenever you found it agreeable to do so?"
"Perfectly well," said De Vane; " but as I have been an
exile for the last three months, I should have sought anew
your gracious permission before entering your realm."
"I am not so arbitrary a sovereign as to require a new
pledge of loyalty every three months from friends."
" Thank you," said De Vane, " for not doubting my loyalty. It has been unswerving, I assure you. I am delighted to meet you alone, that I may say so with all the
ardor which my nature prompts."
Esther colored, and then became very pale, but she
made no reply. De Vane's manner, much more than his
language, startled and embarrassed her.
" I am very fortunate, Miss Wordsworth, in meeting you
here. I was by no means sure that I should find you."'I have been driving with Miss Godolphin this morning," she replied, "and she had put me down here but a
short time since. We had walked some little time through
the grounds, when she left me, that I might pay a flying
visit to my little girls, and as I entered the house, I saw
you, and came to welcome you."
" Miiss Wordsworth, it would be impossible to conceal
my interest in you, if I desired to do so. Long before my
departure for Virginia it must have been known to you,
but I was not at liberty to speak of it. Every thing was
unsettled-my residence, my whole future. Now every
thing is understood-I am to reside here, and whatever




DE VANE.                   391
plans may have been laid out for me by others, of course
are disposed of by my fixing upon this place as my residence, and deciding to take part in the active employments
of life. I amn at liberty to speak to you. I know my own
heart, and you are enthroned in it for all the future."
Again Esther's face was flushed to the temples, and she
was evidently deeply moved. Her emotion did not permit
her to speak. De Vane, ardent as he was, treated her
with the profoundest respect. She had seated herself, and
he stood before her, his arms folded and his lips compressed.
" Speak to me, Miss Wordsworth, speak to me. I love
you deeply, passionately, unchangeably. Will you permit me to love you? Will you say that I may indulge a
sentiment which it would be impossible to conquer? Or
are you too cold to experience the glow of earthly passion?"
Esther raised her glowing face, and far down in her
fathomless eyes he read a soul capable of profoundest sentiment.
"I do not know how to answer you, Mr. De Vane.
Coldness is no part of my nature."
De Vane sat down by her side, and took her hand; it
trembled.
" And may I hope, Esther, that you do not regard me
with indifference?"
"I should always reproach myself, Mr. De Vane, if I were
to speak to you now in any other way than with perfect
frankness. I do not regard you with indifference, but I
fear to trust my own heart."
" And why should you fear, Esther? What is there to
inspire distrust?"
" Oh! much, very much. The solemn injunction of a
dying mother binds me to duties which might be distastefal to you.  Your views of religion differ widely from




892                   DE VANM
mine; and while I honor you too much to believe you
capable of sharing the prejudice, yet I know that your
father and your aunt regard me as belonging to a despised
people."
" And what are their prejudices to us?" said De Vane.
"When they come to know you, they will honor and love
you."
" Still," said Esther, "I could never consent to introduce unhappiness into any family. It was but a few moments since that I was with Miss Godolphin. She spoke
of you, of your father, and of your aunt, and I saw our relations as I had never seen them before. Never, never could
I be happy if I were to darken any house, especially such
a house as yours, so full of ancestral pride, all of which is
centered on you."
"But, Esther, dearest Esther, do you not regard my
happiness? Would you sacrifice me on the cruel altar of
family pride? Then, too, you overrate the barrier to
which you refer. It will at once give way when you are
known."
" I would not sacrifice you, Mr. De Vane, to any false
sentiment of my own. It is due to truth to say that I
prize the love with which you have honored me, but in
the face of an unhappy father you would read my condemnation; and if your magnanimity did not permit you to
reproach me, your heart would suggest accusations against
me. Then, too, the want of sympathy in our religious
views would deprive me of the consolation which I should
so much need if I saw you made unhappy because of me."
"0 Esther! do not torture yourself and me by such apprehensions. My dearest Esther, these are only summer
clouds, which will pass over, and leave us a cloudless
heaven."
"Still, Mr. De Vane," she said, "while I must be loyal
to truth, and say as I do that my own heart pleads for




DE VANE.                    393
you, I must say too, with perfect sincerity, that while
these barriers exist, we can only be friends."
Tears filled her eyes, and after trembling for a moment
upon the dark lashes, rolled down her cheeks. She could
no longer restrain herself. She wept as if the fountains of
feeling so long repressed had broken from the control
under which she had hitherto held them, and would have
their way. Her young, pure, generous heart suffered in
the fierce struggle between love and duty, and she could
not still its throbbings. De Vane was deeply affected. His
respect for her was as great as his love. The perfect purity of her character, the nobleness of her nature, which,
disdaining all false sentiments, prompted her to avow her
regard for him; while the majestic sense of duty which
reigned within her prevented her from  yielding to his
wishes, and forbade her to enter into any engagement with
him; all this filled him with a sentiment almost of veneration for the woman whom he regarded with a feeling
amounting to adoration. He held her hand in silence for
some moments, suffered the violence of her emotions to
subside, and then spoke to her cheerfully:
" Well, dearest Esther, all that I ask is, that you will
give me time to remove these barriers. We understand
each other. I can trust you without vows. There is no
possibility of change on my part, and all will yet be well
with us."
" 0 change! There can be no change in me. I am not
subject to change even in friendship, and I have never
known what it was to feel an interest in any one such as I
feel in you. Do not urge me, Mr. De Vane. You are right,
you can trust me without vows. We comprehend each
other now, and we must trust each other for all the future."
De Vane bowed his head, and kissed her hand-the first
touch of lips, warmed by passion, which she had ever felt.
17*




394                   DE VANE.
She withdrew her hand, and rose from her seat. They
stood by the fountain; its waters flashed in the sunlight,
and fell in sparkling spray; and as the breeze swept it
lightly, a rainbow spanned the little basin.
"See, Esther," said De Vane, "you think that a cloud
rests upon our future; there is our bow of promise. It
spans your own fountain."
A smile, bright as sunlight, overspread her face, and
her eyes shone through the lingering tears with a richer
lustre than that which gilded the falling waters of the
fountain.
They turned into one of the walks, and De Vane said:
"You refuse, Esther, to bind yourself to me by vows,
but you have made me transcendently happy by avowing your interest in me. Your decision is not the result
of indifference. I shall labor to remove the barriers which
to you seem so formidable; when that is done, I hope to
claim you as my own."
" You may underrate the magnitude of the obstacles to
which I refer, Mr. De Vane," she replied. " I have spoken
with perfect frankness, but I can promise nothing whatever. I am your friend, and it is impossible that I can
be more, until I become satisfied that my duty-I mean,
until I am able to feel that considerations which affect us
both make it proper that I should yield to your wishes."
"And is this all that you can say to me, Esther?"
"All," she replied.
" It must then be my task to satisfy your distrust, and
to make you feel that you can become mine without doing
violence to your own sense of duty. I repeat, I am yours
unchangeably. I bind myself to perfect loyalty to you,
for all the future."
She walked by his side in silence.  They reached a
part of the grounds where the walk, emerging into a
broader one, brought them into view of the house; and




DE VANE.                      95O
Esther, turning to him, said: "I must take leave of you
now. I have yet a commission to execute with my little
girls."
"Then I must bid you good morning. A thousand
thanks, Esther, for your frankness. It would have made
me very unhappy to distrust you. I shall soon see you
again. Good morning!"
" Good morning!" said Esther, extending her hand to
him.
He clasped it warmly, and, turning away, passed out
from Leasowes into the great, busy world. His emotions
were not sufficiently well defined to enable him to feel
either exhilarated or depressed. He was deeply moved.
The whole grand nature of the man was roused. His
abounding love swept, like a rising flood, every thing before it; but the sky which overarched it, was not cloudless.
Like a landscape through which the Rhine pours its rejoicing waters, bright with the summer's sun, and yet
sometimes darkened  and turned out of its course by
overshadowing mountains, so the current of his soul ran.
He felt that he was loved, and yet he was not accepted.
Great barriers rose between him and the woman he adored.
Could they ever be removed?  He had striven to cheer
Esther, but he could not conceal from  himself the difficulties in his way. His father's indomitable pride of family, his utter prejudice against the religious sect to which
Esther belonged; Esther's own womanly pride and selfrespect, and her gentle but unswerving sense of duty; al
this troubled him. Still he was loved, and there was rapture in the thought.  He walked into the main street, and
entered the book-store of Mr. Muiller. The richly-bound(
volumes on the shelves, the new tempting books on the
table, attracted and cheered him. How vividly he recalled his meeting and conversation with Esther, upon this
very spot, twelve months before! A beautiful edition of




896                   DE VANE.
Milton's poetical works, in two volumes, just imported
from England, lay before him, and, turning its pages, he
found the passage to which he had called the attention of
Waring at that time. He read it again-it charmed him;
and, stepping to the counter, he requested Mr. Muller to
have the volumes sent to his room.
"This is a splendid edition, Mr. De Vane," said Mr.
Muller. " The finest I have ever seen. But I thought you
had Milton's works entire-a very handsome edition that
I imported for you, some time since."
" Yes," said De Vane; " I have the set to which you
refer, but I intend these volumes for a friend."
"I hope your friend will appreciate them, sir. There
is nothing like them in this country, and they are so expensive that I was afraid to duplicate them."
De Vane returned to his lodgings, and wrote a note to
Esther, to accompany the edition of Milton which he had
just purchased:
"I send you, Esther, the  accompanying volumes.
Please accept them. The Paradise Lost is succeeded by
the Paradise Regained. Woman cheered man in his expulsion from the Eastern garden, and helped him to find
his way to a brighter realm. I can not look forward to
the path which my feet must tread through this wide
world, with any thing like hope, unless you consent to
walk by my side. Cheerfully then should I pursue it,
with an humble trust that with such companionship, and
Providence my guide, I should attain that blissful seat of
which Milton sings.       Always yours,
"GEORGE DE VANE.
"Saturday morning."
Hie sent Tully with the package, who, returning after
some time, reported that he had waited for Miss Wordsworth, as she was not in when he first called at the house,




DE VANE.                   397
and he handed his master a note. De Vane opened it, and
read:
"Thanks.              ESTHER WORDSWORTH."
He laid it away, counting it, brief as it was, a precious
thing.
Waring came in, and asked him what he had been doing
with himself all the morning.
"I have been walking," said De Vane.
"That is very indefinite," said Waring. "Where have
you been walking? I went to the College a little while,
and when I came back you were gone. Csesar was.ignorant of your whereabouts, and Tully was as obscure as an
oracle."
"Oh!" said De Vane laughing, "I did not confide to
them my plans when I walked out, and of course they
could only offer conjectures as to my locality."
"Yes, and I met Miss Godolphin driving, and she could
give no account of you. She said she had just been at
Leasowes, and you were not there."
"Indeed!" said De Vane. "Was she searching for
me?"
"Oh! I suppose not," said Waring; "but not finding
you on the street, I fancied that you might have called
on the ladies, but she assured me that she had just left
Miss Wordsworth, and that she had not seen you."
"So I am discharged from  that suspicion," said De
Vane; "acquitted upon the strength of circumstantial
evidence. But what did Miss Godolphin have to say for
herself?"
"Nothing very special," said Waring. "She was in
her carriage, and I stood conversing with her on the side
of the street."
" So, when I am taking my morning walk, you are look



898                   DE VANE.
ing up the ladies," said De Vane. "You must take me
with you hereafter."
"I should have been happy to do so this time; but I
had no idea that I should have the good fortune to fall in
with any of them."' Waring," said De Vane, "let us take a ride this evening. Our horses are rested, and it will do them good, as
well as ourselves, to take the exercise."
"Very good," said Waring. " Then I will go to Tomlinson's at once, and purchase my bridle and saddle."
" I will go with you," said De Vane. "I think I comprehend those things."
So they went to Tomlinson's, and looked through the
establishment.  Waring selected a light bridle and an
English saddle, under De Vane's counsel, and they were
sent forthwith to the livery-stable, for Ivanhoe.
The evening came, and De Vane and Waring mounted
their horses. They took the road leading to  Mrs. Habersham's country-seat, Clearbrook.
The ride exhilarated them. Never had Waring felt the
same activity in a horse that he found in Ivanhoe. The
clear springy walk, the vigor and elasticity of motion, the
perfect ease with which the animal moved, whether in a
slow gait or in a gallop, made the exercise delightful.
"He is superb, De Vane!" exclaimed Waring.
" I am pleased that you like him," said De Vane. "There
are few finer horses."'
"I know none," said Waring.  "I positively believe
him to be superior to Manfred."
" I have not yet seen Manfred, you know," said De Vane.
"Is he really very fine?"
" Beautiful," said Waring. " I thought him unrivaled,
until I saw Ivanhoe."
" The horse I am riding," said De Vane, " is a thoroughbred. Have you observed his action?"




DE VANE.                   399
"It is fine," said Waring, "his stride is remarkable."
"Yes," said De Vane, " and active as he is, he possesses
uncommon power. See how his shoulder slopes; and his
long arm, and shortness from the knee to the lower joint,
with his muscle, mark him as a fast horse."
He was a superb animal, and the ease with which De
Vane controlled him, showed him to be a perfect horseman.
The stream  which flows through Mrs. H-abersham's
grounds, winds across the road, and is so transparent that
its golden sands may be seen at the bottom, while its
waters wash the axles of vehicles passing through it; and
those who rode or drove from the town usually passed
through it in their excursions, and then, after a shorter or
longer advance upon the road beyond, just as their inclinations prompted, returned. Just as De Vane and Waring
reached the stream, a light open carriage drove into it.
Miss Godolphin and Esther were seated in the carriage,
and the gentlemen drew up their horses, to allow the vehicle to pass.
"Ah! gentlemen, why were you not an hour earlier?"
exclaimed Miss Godolphin. " We have made a delightful
visit to Clearbrook."
"How unkind not to invite us!" said Waring.
"Unkind, indeed! How ungallant not to invite us to
join you on horseback!" she exclaimed.  "I could not
have supposed, Mr. Be Vane, that you would overlook us."
De Vane bowed low, something of a conscious look
appearing in Esther's face, as their eyes met, and he said:'  assure you, Miss Godolphin, that it would have
afforded us both the greatest pleasure to join you in a ride
if we had supposed that it would be agreeable to you to
permit us to do so this evening. We are just exercising
our horses, and hope early next week to attend you."
"Shall we pardon them, Miss Wordsworth, and suf




400                   DE VANE.
fer them  to show  by their good conduct that they
merit it?"
"I think," said Esther, "that we must accept the invitation to ride next week. Shall we not?"
"Very well, gentlemen," said Miss Godolphin, "will
you have the kindness to name the day when we shall go
forth ctu cheval?"
"W ould Tuesday be agreeable to you?" asked De Vane.
"Let it be Tuesday, then, Miss Wordsworth, if you
have no engagements with which it will interfere."
" None whatever," said Esther.
"Then, gentlemen, it shall be Tuesday."
De Vane and Waring both bowed.
" What a very fine horse you are riding, Mr. De Vane,"
said Miss Godolphin. " He looks English."
" It shows how admirable your judgment is," said De
Vane. " He is of the best English blood."
" He is superb," she said.
" And yours is a beautiful creature, Mr. Waring," said
Esther. "I really think him almost equal to Manfred."
" Ah! Mr. De Vane, do you hear that?" said Waring.
" You are not to carry off the honors without my contesting the matter with you."
" You have always borne the honors away from me,"
said De Vane.
" But he shall not do so this time, without a divided
vote," said Miss Godolphin.  "Mr. Waring's horse is
beautiful; but I give the preference to the bay."
"The best judges, ladies, are divided in opinion in regard to the two horses, just as you are," said De Vane.
"Mr. De Vane's judgment and taste," said Waring,
"were shown in the selection of both. He was generous
enough to present this.horse to me; and if he had offered
me the choice, I should certainly have selected him."
"Ah!" said Miss Godolphin, bowing to De Vane, "your




DE VANE.                   401
judgment, your taste, and-what is worth far more than
either-your friendship, Mr. De' Vane, are all shown, in
presenting to Mr. Waring so beautiful an animal, and one
which he so entirely approves."
De Vane lifted his hat in acknowledgment of the compliment.
The ladies then bowed to the gentlemen, and drove on.
Waring and De Vane rode through the stream, and
passing some short distance beyond, turned their horses'
heads toward the town.
"Miss Godolphin and Miss Wordsworth seem to pass
much of their time with each other," said De Vane.
" Yes," replied Waring.  "It has been so throughout
the summer; and I am happy to observe it. Miss Wordsworth's influence over Miss Godolphin is steadily increasing, and it must be for good. I said to you, some days
since, that Miss Godolphin felt great concern upon the subject of religion, and I attribute it to the influence of her
friend. Miss Wordsworth sent to England for a copy of
Lady Huntingdon's Life, which she presented to Miss Godolphin, and she has read it with the greatest interest."
" Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane, " is a Methodist,
and holds the views of that people conscientiously and
firmly; but, I trust, she is not bigoted."
" Not in the least so," said Waring; "no one can be
further from it. But she holds with the tenacity of perfect
conviction and indubitable faith, the doctrine that one Who
enters the kingdom of heaven must repent, and believe inl
the Lord Jesus Christ. She comprehends that no superficial work will do; that there must be forgiveness of sins
and a change of heart before one can be acceptable to God."
"And is that essential, Waring? May not a pure life
and good deeds be acceptable to the Deity, without absolute conformity to a creed?"
"De Vane," said Waring, " read the third of St. John's




402                   DE VANE.
Gospel. Read it searchingly, and you will be satisfied that
your question can be answered only in one way:'Except
a man be born again, he can not see the kingdom of God.'
You will observe that when the Jewish ruler, who seems
to have been a man of singular candor and directness, exclaimed impatiently against what appeared to him an impossibility, unless the doctrine of the transmigration of
souls were true, our Lord corrects his error by assuring
him that what is born of flesh must be flesh, and that what
is born of the spirit must be spirit. In other words, if
it were possible for a man to be reproduced, inheriting his
fallen nature, and living under any improvement of his
physical condition, any degree of high-toned civilization,
that could bring him into no nearer relation to God, who
is not only good but holy; and that it was a spiritual birth
to which he referred-a thorough change, to be wrought
in us by his Spirit: so that it might be said of our moral
nature, Old things are passed away, behold all things are
become new."
De Vane rode for some time in silence. He was profoundly impressed by the fresh, clear view of conversion which
Waring had presented. Waring had quite too thorough
a knowledge of human nature and of De Vane's peculiar
line of thought to attempt to subdue him by mere authority, by referring to miracles as authenticating the divine
mission of our Lord, and demanding that his teachings
should be accepted upon that basis. He comprehended
how thoroughly De Vane was imbued with the German
idea of accounting for our Lord's miracles upon natural
grounds; as, for instance, explaining that stupendous work
of feeding five thousand persons-faint, weary, and hungering for food-by supposing that a caravan, opportunely
passing with a large supply of bread, furnished it to the
apostles for the use of the Master. And how fully he was
acquainted with the acute philosophy of Hume, which in



DE VANE.                     403
volved all reliance upon human testimony in impenetrable
clouds, and made even the eternal granite a quagmire
under the tread of hunan feet seeking some stable foundation for their hope of immortality; and he therefore preferred to rest his argument upon the incontestable basis
that, God being holy and man sinful, there could be no
reconciliation without a change of nature; for without it,
there could be no harmony.
"In the same connection," Waring proceeded to say,
"you will observe that our Lord says, by way of encouragement.to the ruler, who had sought an interview with
him by night,'For God so loved the world, that he gave
his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him
should not perish, but have everlasting life;' and thus revealed to him the single condition of salvation-trust in
the great sacrifice offered for the sins of the whole world."
" You speak of a sacrifice," said De Vane.  "Where is
its necessity?  God is an absolute sovereign. Why might
he not pardon unconditionally, and save the whole race?"
"Ah!" said Waring, " that is the grandest problem  in
the universe. We may not comprehend its whole extent,
no more than we can see the entire disk of an orb like
Jupiter, or the extent of a belt like that which encircles
Saturn; but of this we may be quite sure, while God is
an absolute, he is not an arbitrary Sovereign. His government is a moral one, and the considerations which demanded a sacrifice for a guilty world relate to the whole realm
of intelligent being embraced within the divine administration. Where all are sinners, as our race are, to grant no
pardon would be to exterminate the beings just introduced
into the circle of creation; to grant unconditional and
universal pardon would be to inauglurate universal license
to sin and rebellion, and to overthrow all government;
and to select a part of the race capriciously, as objects of
the divine compassion, would inspire no respect for the




404                    DE VANE.
government, nor veneration for the Sovereign. The orily
plan is that of the Gospel. By offering as a victim the Son
of God, who suffered vicariously, the just for the unjust,
every thing is preserved: the divine administration is vindicated; sin is punished in the most impressive and dread
form; and the offenders are encouraged to love and trust
the Almighty Father, who gives such a signal proof of
reverence for his own law and love for our race."
Again De Vane was silent. At length he said:
"These are dread subjects; they are to be studied profoundly. You do not think me capable, Waring, of regarding them lightly?"
" Of course not," said Waring.  "Your trouble is in asserting the supremacy of reason over subjects which lie
beyond the range of its largest powers. Depend upon it,
we need a revelation to instruct us in invisible things, and
we must limit reason to an investigation of the claims of
any disclosure which professes to be of divine origin, and
not venture to examine the truths revealed to us for our
instruction by any standard within our own minds."
They were entering the town, and the descending sun
filled the heavens with its glory. The tall pines were
ablaze with its lingering beams, and the clouds, like huge
castles or vast mountains, wore deeper splendors than ever
gilded the scenery, even of Eastern climes. The horsemen
rode on silently, both feeling that disposition to meditation
which we all experience under the deepening shadows of
twilight, as we see night descend upon the earth.




CHAPTER IX.
"PERFECT let us walk before TheeWalk in white
To the sight
Of thy heavenly glory!"
CHARLES WESLEY.
SUCH was the confidence between Esther and Mrs. Springfield, that nothing affecting the happiness of either could
occur without being made known to the other.
Of course, Esther communicated to her aunt what had
taken place on Saturday. She suffered the Sabbath to pass
before she mentioned the subject, seeking in the mean
while that guidance which the Father gives to all humble
and trusting souls. Mrs. Springfield was deeply affected
when she learned that Esther, adhering firmly to her sense
of duty, had declined to enter into any engagement with
De Vane. She comprehended the struggle through which
her niece had passed. She interpreted her heart rightly,
and knew how loyal it was to De Vane, at the very moment when she restrained its promptings, and silenced, if
she could not still, its throbbings. She heartily approved
Esther's course, and said so to her, cheering her, at the
same time, with the assurance that doubtless all would
yet be well, but that, in any event, nothing could harm
one who simply followed the path of duty, no matter how
flinty it might be to our weary feet. Unselfish, pure, and
wise, this noble woman counseled her niece to be brave
and cheerful; and as Esther, unable to restrain her emo(405)




406                    DE VAN-E.
tions, bowed her face on her aunt's knees, and wept as if
her heart were breaking, Mrs. Springfield caressed her tenderly, and waited for the outburst of tears to pass away
before she spoke to her. She then kissed her forehead,
and said:
"Esther, you have done just what you should have
done.  Nothing of principle should ever be yielded in
forming such a relation as that of marriage; it must be
altogether pure.  Remember we are a peculiar people.
Let the great world form alliances from motives of ambition or worldliness. It must not be so with us. We are
seeking a better country, that is, an heavenly, and we must
connect ourselves in such close relations as those which
marriage creates, only with those who will walk with us.
But all will yet be well. I have the highest respect for
Mr. De Vane, and my confidence in the nobleness of his
nature satisfies me that he will find the right way, and all
will be overruled for the best."
Soothed, if not cheered, Esther rose, and her aunt left
her to compose herself.
Soon after, she walked to Leasowes, and entered cheerfully upon her self-appointed tasks.
De Vane wrote to Mrs. De Vane a very long letter, full
of ardor, and informing her of the precise state of his relations to Esther. He described, in glowing terms, her character, with which he had already made his aunt acquainted; and he detailed at length the interview of Saturday,
the gentle but decided refusal to engage herself until she
was assured that she could do so consistently with her
self-respect and her sense of duty.  He urged Mrs. De
Vane to break the matter to his father, and to impress
upon him the noble nature of Miss Wordsworth, and the
purity and elevation of her character.  He assured her,
finally, that his happiness was involved, and that he would




DE VANE.                   407
marry no other woman under heaven, if he did not marry
Miss Wordsworth.
Mailing his letter, he awaited a reply with anxiety.
In the mean while, he entered upon his studies in Mr.
Clarendon's office with new energy. His life-tasks were
before him, and they roused his manhood.
Mr. Clarendon was gratified to see the ardor with which
he took up his professional labors, and encouraged him to
the utmost of his power.
Not mercenary himself, he did not limit his view of the
legal profession to its money-yielding capabilities, but
took the larger and more generous view, which Cicero
entertained, and which made him so eminent in defense
of the innocent, and so resistless in prosecuting the guilty.
Tuesday evening came, and Waring and De Vane joined
Miss Godolphin and Esther in the equestrian excursion
agreed on.  Without any preconcert, Waring and Miss
Godolphin rode in advance, and De Vane, tiding with
Esther, followed them, the party taking the road that
led most directly to the country; and after quitting the
town, turning toward the river, they pursued its course.
De Vane, with a taste for fine horses, was delighted with
Manfred, and he observed the perfect skill with which Esther controlled him, spirited as he was.
"Manfred is really a fine animal," he said; "but does
he never give you trouble?"
" Not now," replied Esther. "When I first rode him,
he startled me by his fleetness, dashing off sometimes at
great speed, as if he rejoiced in his strength; but he was
never vicious, and I have taught him to yield to the rein."
"Then he suits you perfectly," said De Vane. "I have
not seen a finer horse, for the saddle, for a lady's use."
Miss Godolphin rode a very handsome black horse, and
she showed to the greatest advantage in her rich, dark




408                   DE VANE.
ricing-dress, and her splendid hat, with its plume-all
in harmony with her style of beauty.
" I am happy to see," said De Vane, " that Miss Godolphin is brighter than she was when she returned from
Europe. Do you not observe it?"
"Oh! yes," said Esther. " The shadow is, I trust, passing away. I did not know, until she spoke to me upon
the subject some weeks since, what she had suffered."
"Did she explain every thing?" asked De Vane.
"With perfect unreserve she unfolded her history, and
I comprehended for the first time what she must have suffered. Have you ever heard it?"
"Yes," said De Vane; " I learned it from her friend,
Miss Guilford, whom I met in Virginia. You know, of
course, that they were in Europe together?"
"Yes," said Esther, "I have heard her speak of Miss
Guilford. But what Miss Godolphin has suffered! How
dreadful to feel what she has endured for many, many
months!"
"She has accused herself needlessly," said De Vane.
"She was not in the least to blame. The course of Sir
George Godolphin was harsh, and unworthy of him."
Waring and Miss Godolphin had reached the point in
the road leading to the ferry, where the two gentlemen
had first met Mr. Springfield and his family; and they
drew up their-horses, to await the coming of De Vane
and Esther.
"We mark the progress of time by events," said Waring, as they reached the spot; "and you may, perhaps,
not have forgotten, Miss Wordsworth, that some twelve
months since a traveling-carriage drove up this road, and
the party following it were arrested by two young gentlemen who stood in the highway?"
"Oh! yes," said Esther, coloring. "I remember it per.




DE VANE.                   409'fectly well. Has it been twelve months?  It scarcely
seems so long."
"Twelve months, almost to a day," said Waring. " How
swiftly time flies!"
" Was it here," asked Miss Godolphin, " that you met
Miss Wordsworth for the first time, Mr. De Vane?"
" Upon this very spot," said De Vane. "Mr. Waring
and I were taking an evening walk, and we stood here to
admire the effect of the light upon the water and the surrounding objects. Mr. Springfield and his party were
just returning from their summer's travel, and we met
them here. Really, in looking back to it, it seems as if
I had been studying one of Claude Lorraine's pictures;
and I can scarcely feel that the scene was one of real life.
I feel as if I had known Mr. Springfield and his family all
my life."
Miss Godolphin, smiled. Unconsciously, De Vane had
uttered his heart-thoughts, and only said, in different language, that his real existence had only begun on the banks
of the stream which flowed before them, twelve months
before. She perfectly comprehended it, but she forebore
to speak her thoughts. Esther was present, and she spared
her. What is life until the heart expands? Like plants
that are full of verdure and brightness, but yield no fragrance, until suddenly the flower bursts into beauty; so
the life, exuberant and joyous as it may seem, has no
real meaning until the soul wakes to consciousness, under
the power of some great sentiment.
"The scene is one of remarkable beauty," said Miss
Godolphin. "Observe that light upon the rapids. The
water flashes like molten silver, and the spray that rises,
catching the slanting sunbeams, is like a shower of tiny
pearls. See that wheel of the mill above us. How the
glancing water reflects the light, as if it were draped with
liquid mirrors, while.the wild vines, climbing the great
18




410                   DE VANE.
trees on the river-bank, catch the sunbeams, and hang over
the waters like a canopy of green and gold! The whole.
picture is Southern."
"Very beautiful!" said Esther.
"After all," said De Vane, "I like ferry-boats better
than bridges. It is a little voyage that one makes between the two banks. You are upon the water and enjoy
its current, and the very exertion which it requires to
overcome its swiftness, imparts a pleasing sense of triumph."
"iUnless you are in haste to get over," said Waring;
" then the delay is an annoyance."
" Oh! of course. I speak of pleasure excursions," said
De Vane. "Business is quite another thing. But observe
those two men. How vigorously they exert themselves in
bringing the boat over! The carriage and the horses, and
the foot-passengers, are heavy enough to make it necessary to put out strength in accomplishing the voyage;
and when they reach this bank, a sense of relief will be
experienced, as if another dangerous adventure in life were
well over."
"On the Rhine," said Miss Godolphin, "there are
bridges of boats, and when a vessel approaches, a space
is made sufficiently wide for it to pass, by dropping some
of the boats out of the current, and reconstructing the
bridge after it has gone by, bringing the boats back to
their place. The scene is full of animation, and the arrangement in every vay convenient, affording a safe intercommunication between the two banks of the stream, and
yet offering no obstruction to commerce."
" I think," said Waring, "I should prefer a bridge of
that kind to a, ferry, however picturesque."
"Oh! certainly, if you intend to apply your utilitarian
pi\ sophy to the beauties of nature," said De Vane. " But
then,u would do better to construct your bridges as
they d.o  on the Thames-grandly-and make them beau



DE VANE.                    411
tiful objects in the landscape, compelling the steamers to
lower their smoke-pipes when they pass through the arches.
But I insist upon keeping some part of the realm of nature
free from the encroachments of commercial despotism."
"Well," said Miss Godolphin, "I think with.Mr. De
Vane. Long may our ferry-boat ply between these banks!"
"I am sorry to disturb your plans," saic Waring, " but
I learn that an enterprising set of people have made up
their minds to throw a bridge over the river very soon."
"Then," said De Vane, "we must preserve this picture
in the chambers of memory, for it is one of great beauty."
They rode on, making a circuit about the town, passing
beyond the College, and returning by the way of the sandhills.
The party- rode as much together as possible, and the
conversation was general and animated. They reached
home exhilarated with the exercise, and full of the joy
which youth feels in the present, while hope illumines the
future with its strong light.
On Thursday morning, at the breakfast-table, Mrs. Bowen
reminded Waring that the love-feast was to be held the
next evening, informing him that it had been announced the
preceding evening, at the close of the service.
"Yes," said Waring, "I might have forgotten it, if you
had not named it. I thank you for reminding me."
" A love-feast!" said De Vane. " What is that?"
" It is a meeting," said Waring, " held by the Methodists once in three months, in which each one who feels disposed to relate his experience as a Christian, may do so
without reserve."
"Indeed!" said De Vane.  "Do explain it to me.
I confess that my curiosity is. roused."
"We hold," said Waring, ".a conference once in the
year, where the preachers assemble to report the results
of their labors, and receive from the Bishop who presides,




412                    DE VANE.
their appointments for the following year. This is called
the annual conference, and it presents a scene of high
moral interest. At times it rises into sublimity. A body
brought together from extensive fields of labor, compose
of men of intellect and character, submit themselves to
the Bishop, who, surrounded by several ministers-elders
in charge of districts-as a cabinet to advise him, looks
out upon the whole work embraced within the bounds of
the conference, and assigns them  to such posts as he
may think best for the great cause. A rigid examination
of character is made, and the minister learns his appointment for the first time from the lips of the Bishop, who,
at the close of the conference, reads out the list. Then
these presiding elders hold in each of their districts-into
which each conference is subdivided-a conference every
three months, called a quarterly conference, composed of
the official members of the circuit or station, where the
proper business is transacted and character is examined.
On the Friday preceding, a meeting of the members of the
church is held, with the view of relating to each other their
experience. Ancient usages are adhered to by us. The
early Christians had their feasts of charity-the Methodists hold their feasts of love. None are admitted but
Christians, and serious persons who request the privilege.
The doors are rigidly closed, and the world shut out.
Water and bread are handed around, and each one partakes
of it, in token of good-will, felt by each toward all. Then
every one rises and speaks who may be disposed, briefly
stating his experience as a Christian."
De Vane listened with great interest to Waring's description, and then said, when he had concluded:
"I should be happy, Waring, to attend the love-feast
to-morrow evening. Can I be permitted to do so?"
"I will inquire," said Waring.  "The Presiding Elder
is to be here to-morrow, and I will apply to him  for a
ticket."




DE VANE.                   413
"Thank you," said De Vane. " I really wish to attend."
Mrs. Bowen heard this with amazement.  The idea
that De Vane should desire to attend a love-feast, astonished her. She admired him extravagantly, and had often
felt saddened by his indifference to the services of the
Church. She prayed for him fervently, and was now inexpressibly thankful that he felt a desire to attend one of
those meetings, peculiar to her people, and which she
esteemed so highly.
Waring obtained permission for De Vane to attend the
love-feast, and after early tea, they accompanied Mrs.
Bowen to the Methodist meeting-house.  It was soon
pretty well filled, quite a large number of persons belonging to other churches having been admitted. The Presiding Elder was the Rev. William Chalmers, an educated
and accomplished gentleman, and a preacher of the highest
order; and his presence never failed to attract many persons, not members of the church, to his ministrations.
After the introductory prayer and hymn, Mr. Chalmers
explained, briefly, the nature of the meeting; and the bread
and water were handed to every one in the house, all partaking.
Mr. Chalmers then rose and related his experience, which,
without being too minute, was pointed and deeply interesting. He had been converted when young, and had entered upon the work of the ministry immediately upon
quitting college. His first attempt to persuade others was
in exhortations following the sermon of some of the preachers, and he had continued to experience a clear manifestation of the favor of God up to the present moment, enjoying a constant sense of his acceptance.
His remarks were very impressive, the good taste which
characterized, and the fervor which imbued them, making
them felt by every one. De Vane had never before heard
anything like it. It was as if he had been suddenly introduced into the presence of the early Christians.




414                    DE VANE.
After Mr. Chalmers had resumed his seat, some moments
of silence ensued. Then a venerable man rose from his
seat on one of the side-benches, and spoke for about five
minutes. He had been a member of the Church for more
than forty years, was still enjoying a clear sense of the
divine approval, and was prepared, at any hour, to pass
over the waters which his feet already touched, and enter
the home of the blessed.
As he took his seat, a hearty "Amen!" was uttered by
several of the leading members, and a single stanza of a
hymn was sung.
Two or three others followed, speaking with distinctness
and confidence of their sense of sins forgiven, and of assured peace.
Among the females, there now rose up one. She was
tall and middle-aged, and dressed with marked simplicity
and neatness. She, too, spoke for a few moments of her
religious state, describing it as full of peace and hope.
She was followed by a much younger person, who spoke
with such marked intelligence, that every one heard her
with interest. She described her conversion, the intense
wretchedness which had preceded it, and the rapture
which followed,; stating her present peace as the result of
an unswerving trust in God, and realizing, as she said,
the truth of the promise, uttered by an inspired prophet,
"Thou shalt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is
staid on thee;" and as she resumed her seat, great emotion was exhibited throughout the assemblage. The testimony delivered was so clear, simple, fervent, and in such
perfect taste, both as regarded manner and language, that
it was not only above criticism, but it found' its way
into the depths of every listening soul. Mr. Chalmers instantly sang a stanza, descriptive of the triumph of a renewed soul, beginning with the line,
Ye winged seraphs, fly "




DE VANE.                   415
and it was taken up by others, who swelled the sound
until it filled the house with its exulting rapture.
"It is good to be here!" exclaimed Mr. Chalmers.
" Amen!'9 responded many voices.
The pastor of the church now rose, and spoke for a few
minutes. He had been converted when young, and had
entered the ministry at eighteen. It was to him a happy
work in the midst of all its toils and responsibilities, and
he had no other aim in life but to preach the Word and
honor the name of the MASTER. A deep sympathy with
his remarks was exhibited, and as he sat down, Mr. Chaimers exclaimed: "The Lord bless thee, my brother, and
cause his face to shine upon thee!" "Amen!9" was uttered
all over the house. Mr. Springfield rose, and spoke for a
few minutes, with marked clearness and fervor. He referred to his conversion-which had occurred just as he
attained the age of twenty-one-and his abiding sense of
pardon and peace. He looked to the future with hope, for
he had learned to trust, as well as to obey. He was heard
with deep interest. Several of the leading members of the
church followed in quick succession, speaking the language of faith and hope, and several describing the man
ner of their conversion, referring to the hour and the place.
A very young man rose. He was from the low country,
and was present casually, traveling for a few weeks with
Mr. Chalmers around his district; and he felt that it would
be no intrusion if he added his testimony to the goodness
of his redeeming Lord. He described his awakening and
his conversion, and he said:'"After peace entered my
soul, the whole aspect of nature was changed; the heavens
were bright, and the trees seemed to wave their branches
in praise of their Creator."  He stated that it was his purpose to give his life to the task of inviting sinners to
the Lord whom he had found so gracious, and to identify
himself with the only cause which was worthy of the en



416                   DE VANE.
tire consecration of an immortal being —a cause which
would display its beneficent triumphs, when heroes, and
statesmen, and empires, and all human glory had disappeared.
"The Lord guide and strengthen thee, and give thee
good success!" exclaimed Mr. Chalmers, which was responded to by many voices, uttering an earnest Amen!
Mr. Chalmers now rose, and remarked that it was time
to, bring the meeting to a close. That it had been one of
marked interest, and he trusted of great profit.
A hymn was sung"How happy every child of grace,
Who knows his sins forgiven!"
and Mr. Arthur, the pastor, made the closing prayer.
The love-feast had ended; the doors were thrown open,
and the congregation dispersed.
As De Vane was passing to the door, he joined Mr.
Springfield and his party, and spoke to them. They received him warmly, and Mrs. Springfield expressed her
satisfaction at seeing him there. "It is new to you, Mr.
De Vane," she said, "and may not be agreeable to your
tastes; but it is a profitable meeting to Christians."
"I do not doubt it, madam," he said. "I have been
much interested in it."
Offering his arm to Esther, he walked with her, preceded
by Mr. and Mrs. Springfield; and upon reaching the house,
accepted an invitation to enter.
"Well, Mr. De Vane," said Mr. Springfield, "you have
witnessed a meeting peculiar to us as a people, and I trust
that you found nothing in it to offend you."
"On the contrary," said De Vane, "I was profoundly
interested in it. I can imagine nothing more agreeable
to an earnest believer in Christianity, than to hear others
speak of its effects, as wrought in them. I love earnestness




DE VANE.                    417
in every thing; and every one must concede, that if the
claims of religion are to be admitted at all, they must be
recognized as supreme. I can conceive of nothing so distasteful as conventionalism, and a deference to the world's
opinion in matters affecting one's relations to God. No,
sir; such a meeting as I have been permitted to witness
this evening can never offend me."
"You must allow me to say, sir," said Mr. Springfield,
"that I am highly gratified to hear you express yourself
in this way. Persons of culture, unacquainted with our
usages, sometimes find their taste offended by them. I
am not, however, surprised to find that you are differently
affected by our love-feast."
De Vane bowed, appreciating the compliment which
was paid to the real nobleness of his nature.
" I was much pleased with Mr. Chalmers and Mr. Arthur," said De Vane.
" They are superior men," replied Mr. Springfield. "Mr.
Chalmers was educated at your College, and is a person
of fine acquirements. Both as a writer and preacher, he
ranks high. You can hear him on Sunday morning, if you
wish, as he is to preach at that time."
"I shall certainly avail myself of the privilege," said
De Vane.
"Mr. Arthur," said Mr. Springfield, "is a Georgian;
not thoroughly educated, but self-taught, and he is still
rapidly improving. He is a very able preacher, and his
increasing library attests his love of books and his progress in learning.  His language is remarkable for its
purity, and his style possesses a great charm."
"I must hear him at some time," said De Vane. "I
admire him greatly. There is a manliness about his air
very pleasing to me."
"I quite agree with you," said Mrs. Springfield. "He
is a great favorite of mine."
18*




418                   DE VANE.
I do not know which of the two I prefer," said Esther.' I admire them both. They are charming men."
"You are fortunate in having such ministers," said De
Vane.
"Very much so," said Mrs. Springfield.
After some conversation upon other subjects, De Vane
rose and took leave of the family, saying that he should
not fail to hear Mr. Chalmers on Sunday.
He found Waring in his room awaiting his return, and
anxious to know how the meeting had impressed him.
"Well, De Vane, what do you think of a love-feast?"
"I was profoundly impressed with it," said De Vane,
" and I shall hope to have the privilege of attending one
sometimes. I love its earnestness."
"Just as I expected," said Waring. "I was confident
that you would see it in that light. Ah! De Vane, you
ought to be a Christian.",
"I wish I could be one," said De Vane.
" Did you like Mr. Chalmers?" asked Waring.
"Greatly," said De Vane. "I am to hear him  on
Sunday.  Mr. Springfield informed me that he would
preach."
"Yes," said Waring, "it will delight you. He is a
charming preacher.  A more polished one you never
heard."
Then followed a long conversation upon other subjects;
and when the friends separated for the night, the town
clock was striking twelve.
On Sunday morning the Methodist church was filled to
overflowing, and the first people of the town pressed
eagerly to hear Mr. Chalmers. Mr. and Mrs. Clarendon
were both present, and were accompanied by Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin. Mr. Hallam and other eminent men were scattered through the congregation. Waring took his accustomed seat, and De Vane was by his




DE VANE                    419
side. Mr. Chalmers rose in the pulpit, and opened the
services by reading a portion of the Old and the New
Testament.
His appearance was that of a man of intellect, sensibility, and refinement. His dark lambent eyes were full
of expression, and his finely-chiseled features bore the
ineffaceable stamp of genius and sentiment. His reading
was very fine, clear, and rhetorical, and his hearers
caught new views of the meaning of particular passages
of the Scriptures, as he uttered them.
A hymn followed-one of remarkable beauty-which
was read in a way to impress the sentiments which it embodied, almost as deeply as if it had been sung, and then
the whole congregation, rising to their feet, sang it, Mr.
Chalmers himself leading the music.'The prayer that followed impressed De Vane, and he thought it the finest he
had ever heard. Another hymn followed, sung without
the lines being recited from the pulpit; and then Mr.
Chalmers rose, and announcing his text, proceeded to deliver his sermon, without reference even to notes. -His
text was from the eightieth Psalm, first verse: " Give ear,
O Shepherd of Israel, thou that leadest Joseph lile a flock;
thou that dwellest between the cherubims, shine forth."
It was a transcendently great discourse, blending argument, illustration, beauty, and fervor in wonderful combination and matchless power. The tenderness of the allmerciful Father; the glory of the God of hosts dwelling
between the cherubims; the outshining of his nature irt
manifestations of love for a lost race, until at length, on
Calvary, the expiring Son, encircled by the angels who
bent in wondering gaze over the priceless sacrifice laid
before the mercy-seat-all was described in language so
perfect, so pure, so much in harmony with the sublime
theme of the preacher, that all who heard him yielded
ready sympathy, and wept those tears which come from




420                    DE VANE.
the depths of the soul. Some sobbing was heard, but the
prevailing tribute of the audience to the power of the discourse, was that of profuse weeping. Never in all his life
had De Vane been so deeply affected. His taste, his sensibility, his judgment-all approved what he had heard, and
there was no room for criticism. Mr. Arthur concluded
the services in his fine, warm, natural way; and so far
from impairing the effect of the discourse, heightened and
strengthened it.
As the congregation were dispersing, De Vane met Mr.
Clarendon and his party; his eyes were moist, and the
ladies were still weeping.
"What a discourse!" said Mr. Clarendon. "I forgot
the world and time and myself, until it was ended."
" You have described my own emotions," said De Vane.
"It was glorious."
The ladies entered the carriage. Esther came up, to
take the extended hand of Mr. Clarendon. " What do
you Methodists mean?" he said. "Do you intend to captivate us all?"
" Only to make you free indeed," she replied, smiling
through her tears.
De Vane shook hands with her silently. She turned to
speak to Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin; and De
Vane, joining Waring, who was standing  near him,
walked away from the Methodist chapel.




CHAPTER X.
"LOVE not! 0 warning! vainly said,
In present hours as in years gone by;
Love flings a halo round the dear one's head,
Faultless, immortal, till they change or die.
Love not!"
CAROLINE MORTON.
THE weeks flew by swiftly. Waring was closely engaged
with his duties at the College, and De Vane was pursuing
his studies with diligence.  He made rapid progress, and
was already nearly prepared to pass the examination required for admission to the bar. Still he had no thought
of making immediate application, intending to take a more
extended course, before entering upon the duties of the
profession.  He had not received any reply to the letters
which he had written to Mrs. De Vane. Occasionally
Waring joined him  in riding with Miss Godolphin and
Esther, and they sometimes drove in the evening in De
Vane's open carriage, stopping to visit friends or to walk
in the public garden, just as they found it most agreeable.
One evening Waring and De Vane were riding with
Miss Godolphin and Esther; they had been on an excursion
to the sand-hills, and upon their return were just entering
the town, when Manfred started suddenly, and plunging
to the side ef the road where it' was precipitous, came near
leaping into the ravine which skirted it. But for the admirable skill with which Esther controlled him, he would
have done so; and even when restrained, he stood with
expanded nostrils and dilated eyes, the very picture of
(421)




422                   DE VANE.
terror. De Vane instantly rode to the aid of Esther, and
soothed the frightened horse by speaking to him cheerfully
and laying his hand firmly upon his neck.
Waring and Miss Godolphin, who were a little way in
the rear, came up, and the group formed a subject for the
pencil of an artist. The sun, which shed his strong red
beams through the pine forest, which comes up to the
very boundaries of the town, revealed a being standing on
a projecting rock on the road-side, who seemed scarcely of
this world. She was very tall, dark as an Indian, her
black hair streaming down her shoulders like a mantle,
her eyes blazing and wild with some strange passion, her
dress fantastic as that of a stage-queen, and her attitude
full of unconscious majesty. The sunlight fell upon her,
and a very large, perfectly black greyhound stood by her
side, while the party on horseback, arrested by the object
before them, confronted her silently, and with almost a
sense of awe.  Several minutes elapsed before any one
spoke: at length De Vane said:
" My good woman, why do you stand there on the roadside? Are you in want of any thing?"
The woman fixed her eyes on the face of the young man,
and seemed to study it as if she would read his soul. She
spoke at length, in tones so sad as almost to sound like
the wailing of deep grief. "You are brave, and she is
young and fair; but will that make your path bright? I
have seen the past and can read the future. Clouds will
darken the morning sky, though the sun be never so
strong."
In spite of his own judgment, and the cool courage for
which he was remarkable, IDe Vant could not treat the
words lightly. He was distressed. Esther became very
pale.
Waring and Miss Godolphin looked on for a moment in
silence, but observing the effect of the woman's words on
Esther, Waring rode nearer, and said-:




DE VANE.                   423
" My good woman, who are you? What can we do for
you?"
She turned her eyes on him, and then looking steadily
at Miss Godolphin, who sat moveless in her dark dress on
her black horse, like a queen mourning some dead loved
one, she said:
"Darkness sometimes comes in the morning, and then
the sun bursts forth and the sky is all bright."
Miss Godolphin trembled, she scarcely knew why; a
vague terror possessed her. The innate superstition of her
nature was touched, and she felt for a moment as if the
strange being before her-unearthly and superhumancould read the sealed book of fate.
"It is very strange " said Waring. "What does she
mean?"
"What can she mean?" said De Vane. "She must be
some'maniac who has wandered from her keepers. She
may be in want."  Taking out his purse, he threw a goldpiece at her feet, and said: "Perhaps you are far from
home; there is something that will buy food for you until
you find your people."
The woman fixed her gaze on him once more; a kindly
look passed into her brilliant eyes, and she said gently:
" Brave.souls endure long. WVhen storms pass by, the
cloudless heavens are bright, and the earth rejoices once
more."
Turning away from the spot where she stood, without
stooping to take up the piece of gold which De Vane had
thrown at her feet, she walked slowly into the woods and
disappeared. The party rode on.
"She is a strange being," said Waring. "She must
have friends near here, and if her pride revolts against the
offer of money, doubtless she will return to secure it, or
send some of her people for it."
"She is most extraordinary," said De Vane; "her ap



424                    DE VANE.
pearance is that of an Indian woman, and yet her features
are those of the white race."
" I have a faint recollection of having seen her," said Esther, "but when or where, it is impossible to say. She
frightened me, I am ashamed to say, dreadfully."
"I do not wonder at it," said De Vane. " Her appearance was sudden, and it was enough to startle any one."
" She is a very strange person," said Miss Godolphin.
"She really seems unearthly. Do you think, Miss Wordsworth, it is possible that you can have met her anywhere
before?"
" I am confident that I have," said Esther. "It seems a
mere dream, but it is too distinct to be unreal."
" What remarkable language she uses!" said De Vane.
" It is really poetical."
"Do you know," said Waring, " that it is very much in
the Indian style? They-are poetical, as all tribes dwelling
in the midst of nature are found to be, and some of the
Indian tribes rise in the use of language to a highly figurative and even ornate and elegant style."
" The language of that woman," said De Vane, " reminds
one of Ossian-it is lofty, figurative, and sad."
" She assumed the tone of a sibyl," said Miss Godolphin.
" She spoke as if human fortunes were revealed to her."
" Yet she was as indefinite as an oracle," said Waring.
"Her generalization was such that it would be easy to
verify her prophecies, whatever turn human fortunes might
take."
"Still," said De Vane, "there seemed to be some deep
meaning in her words. I confess to a vein of superstition
in my nature."
"That comes of your passion for the classics," said
Waring. "Augurs and soothsayers decided the fortunes
of men and states in former times."
"I confess too," said Miss Godolphin, " that I share Mr.




DE VANE.                   425
De Vane's respect for such predictions as we have just listened to. That woman may be endowed with supernatural vision."
"Scarcely, I should think," said Waring. "We must
inquire about her."
It was understood that they were to pass the evening
at Mrs. Springfield's, it being Thursday, when she received,
without issuing cards of invitation.
The evening was fine, and an unusually large company
assembled in the attractive drawing-rooms of Mrs. Springfield. The cheerfulness, the unpretending elegance, and
the high culture which reigned in the house, made it a
most agreeable one to visit. Large entertainments were
never given, but at the receptions the numbers were sometimes such as to rival those brought together by regular
cards of invitation.
Mrs. Habersham accompanied Miss Godolphin, and M/r.
Clarendon soon sought them, and entered into conversation with them.
"   Mr. Clarendon!" said Miss Godolphin, "we had a
rare adventure this evening, and I have not ceased to tremble yet."
"Indeed!" said he, opening his eyes very wide, and
looking sympathetic horror; "and what shape did it
come in?"
" Oh! I can not undertake to relate it, in the absence of
Miss Wordsworth. She was present, and shared my terror," said Miss Godolphin.
"Then let us find her," said Mr. Clarendon, offering her
his arm. They made their way into the library, where
Esther was engaged in conversation with Waring; and
going to the spot where she stood, Mr. Clarendon bowed,
and said:
"I am here, Miss- Wordsworth, to hear you repeat a
tale which is to freeze my young blood, and make my




426                   DE VANE.
hair to stand on end, like quills upon the fretful porcupine.
Will you deign to speak?"
" And has not Miss Gocolphin informed you of our adventure?" said Esther, smiling.
" Only that you have had an adventure; but not a word
further can I prevail on. her to utter," said he.
" Oh! here comes my uncle," said Esther, "and he can
recite it, and enlighten you better than I can.  I told
him what had occurred upon my return home, and he is
confident that he knows the person who startled us so
much."
Mr. Springfield came up, and he was appealed to for an
explanation.
" Where is Mr. De Vane?" he asked, turning to Waring.
" He should hear what I have to say."'"I am looking for him every moment," said Waring.' He received letters from Virginia just as we reached
home, and he said that he would look over them, and
follow me before a great while."
At that moment, De Vane entered the room, and advanced directly to the group in which Esther was standing. He looked somewhat graver than usual, and bowed
with stately grace to the party awaiting his approach.
"An opportune arrival!" said iMr. Clarendon, extending
his hand to him. " I await with impatience the unfolding
of a tale, which can not be disclosed until you are ready
to hear it. Welcome, sir I"
"I regret my late arrival on every account," said De
Vane, " but I trust that I am yet in time to be enlightened
by any disclosures that are to be made."
" Mr. Springfield, will you please to proceed?" said Mr.
Clarendon.
" It seems, then," said Mr. Springfield, " that our young
friends were returning this evening from an excursion on
horseback, when, just at the limits of the town where the




DE VANE.                   427
pines rise in such a fine grove, Esther's horse started violently, and threatened to go over the precipice on the side
of the road, when Mr. De Vane, with great coolness and
judgment, soothed Manfred,and held him from doing mischief; when, looking across the road, to discover what had
frightened him, a strange woman was seen standing on a
projecting rock, in a queen-like attitude, and dressed quite
out of the way in which civilized females are accustomed
to appear; and, upon being accosted, she proceeded to utter
one or two prophetic sentences, in highly figurative style.
Her language was fine, her manner majestic, and the
words evidently designed to convey some hidden meaning."
"What were the words?" asked Mr. Clarendon.
Esther colored deeply, and De Vane looked uneasy.
Waring hesitated to say any thing, and Miss Godolphin
was profoundly interested.
" Upon my soul!" said Mr. Clarendon, " I am becoming
deeply interested.  This begins to look as if it meant
something."
Waring smiled, and said: "I suppose I must answer
your question, as Mr. Springfield was- not of our party
when the woman appeared to us. Observing.her strange
demeanor, I was curious.to know what she might have to
say, and therefore observed her closely. In reply to a
question from Mr. De Vane, as to'Why she stood on the
road-side? if she was in want of any thing?' she looked on
him with the eyes of an awakened sibyl, and after a full
survey both of himself and Miss Wordsworth, she said, in
low, sad tones:' You are brave, and she is young andfair;
but will that nmake your path bright?  I have seen the past,
and I can read the futare. Clouds will darken the mnorning
sky, though the sun be never so strong.' I then rode nearer,
and' asked her if we could do any thing for her; when,
fixing upon me the same steady gaze which she had turned




428                   DE VANE.
on De Vane, she said:' Darkness sometimes comes in the
morning, and then the sun bursts forth, and the sky is all
bright.' Upon this Mr. De Vane threw a piece' of gold at
her feet, which she disdained to touch, but looking kindly
on him, she said,' Brave souls endure long.  When storms
pass by, the cloudless heavens are bright, and the earth
rejoices once more;' when she turned away, and disappeared."
"It is very wonderful!" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon, evidently deeply impressed by what he had heard.
"I found Esther so much agitated when she reached
home," said Mr. Springfield, " that I tried to soothe her,
by giving her the only explanation which, I think, can
apply to an incident so extraordinary. When I resided in
Georgia, I became acquainted with some of the leading
men of the Cherokee nation, and I learned from one of
them  an account so remarkable and interesting that it
haunted me. An English gentleman, becoming embittered
against his friends, came to this. country, and entered the
Cherokee nation, adopted their habits, their dress, and, in
short, became one of them. He married the daughter of a
chief, and lived with the people of his adoption to the day
of his death. A daughter was born to him, and she was
sent to Philadelphia, where she received a.thorough education. Returning, to visit her people, who had made
great progress in civilization, she was the object of much
attention from all travelers passing through the nation,
and she attracted the notice of the son of a gentleman of
fortune, who actually asked her in marriage. Obstacles
were interposed by her father, and the gentleman, finding him  inexorable, and the daughter refusing to disob'ey, abandoned her. Shut up in the nation, her mind
acting on itself, with so little to divert it from dwelling
on her sorrow, she lost her reason, and at once became, in
the estimation of her people, a prophetess. They vene



DE VANE.                   429
rated her, and exalted her into the highest rank of inspired beings.  Some years since, when Esther was a
child, some of the tribe came to Athens, where we were
on a visit, and she accompanied them. Going out to their
encampment, we met the prophetess, and she took a
wonderful fancy to Esther, who, while greatly alarmed by
the appearance of the Indians, seemed to approach her
without fear. I think, even then, she uttered some prediction about Esther, in which cloud and sunshine were
much intermixed, but I do not recall it distinctly, of
course regarding it as of no moment."
" But," said Mr. Clarendon, "can it be possible she is
here? Can this be the prophetess?"
" I do not know how that may be," said Mr. Springfield;
" but it is possible that some wandering party of the Cherokees may may be visiting here, in prospect of the assembling of the Legislature."
De Vane, Esther, and Miss Godolphin had all listened to
the conversation with the deepest interest.
"Her. language," said Miss Godolphin, " was that of an
educated woman. Did you ever hear any thing more impressively uttered, Mr. De Vane?"
" Never," said De Vane, "never; and her appearance
was nothing short of majestic."
"It is very remarkable," said Mr. Clarendon, " that persons who profess to be able to read the future at once
acquire a certain ascendency over us.  I doubt if the
strongest minds are not to some extent under the dominion
of that subtle superstition which asserts its sway so widely
as to be almost, if not quite, universal. It is one of those
points where civilization and barbarism meet. Humanity,
in all its conditions, desires to fathom the infinite, and to
read the invisible; and we yield some deference to the
claims of those who profess to be able to see coining events
in the shadows which they cast before them."




430                   DE VANE.
"The observation is, I think,' said Waring, " a perfectly
just one; and I confess that I experienced this evening,
when we were confronted with that extraordinary woman,
a certain degree of deference and more respect for her utterances than they were at all entitled to."
"By the way," said Mr. Clarendon, " her words were
very remarkable. She has uttered a prophecy almost in
the language of poetry, and yet susceptible of clear interpretation."
The heightening color of Esther, the conscious look of
De Vane, and the expression of Miss Godolphin's face, satisfied him that it was a subject too deeply involving the
happiness of those about him to be discussed lightly; and
he added: "I must lookinto this, and see if the prophetess
can read my fortunes."
" Ah! Mr. Clarendon," said Esther, "it requires no prophetess to read your future. It is to be a brilliant one."
"And you are ascending the tripod?" said Mr. Clarendon. "I yield to such a priestess," and bending low, he
kissed Esther's hand. " No sweeter language could greet
me if I stood at Delphi."
The group dispersed, other persons coming forward, and
Mr. Springfield turning away to attend to guests just coming ini. In the course of the evening, De Vane sought a
conversation with Esther, but found her so surrounded
that he could only express his wish to speak with her alone,
and it was understood between them that he should call
the next day at twelve. He took a seat by the side of
Miss Godolphin, and had a long and earnest conversation.
She was eager to speak with him of his visit to Virginia,
and she asked him seriously what his relations were with
Miss Guilford.
"Were you jesting, Mr. De Vane, when you said, some
evenings since, that she had made no impression on you?"




DE VANE.                   431
De Vane smiled. "And do you sftppose that I am really
a prisoner at large?" he replied.
" Do not evade the question," she said, " but do answer
me frankly. I know that she looked forward to meeting
you in Virginia with the greatest interest. She often spoke
of you, and you were the subject of correspondence with
your aunt. She was much admired in Europe, and I am
curious to know if you have really escaped, without surrendering to charms which many thought were irresistible."
De Vane saw that she was seriously interested. He did
not doubt that the interest grew out of a generous concern
for her friend, Miss Wordsworth. The event of the evening had startled her; the roadside prophetess, the strange
prediction in regard to the future of the persons before
her-for she had evidently designed her words to be prophetic-the emotion of Esther, all satisfied her that the
happiness of at least one party might be involved in the
growing intercourse between De Vane and Esther, and she
resolved, with true and unselfish courage, to seek a free
conversation with him.
"I assure you, Miss Godolphin," he said, "that I am
perfectly sincere. I found Miss Guilford's beauty resplendent, and I admired her greatly. She transcended my expectations. She is a brilliant woman; but after an unrestricted intercourse of a summer's duration, I left her without the slightest interest in her, beyond the admiration
which she excited when we first met. I beg you to believe
me when I assure you as a friend-and I trust that you
will permit me to hold that relation to you-that it would
be impossible for me to regard Miss Guilford with any
stronger or tenderer sentiment than that of admiration."
He spoke earnestly. Miss Godolphin extended her hand
to him, and said:
"I am honored by your friendship, Mr. De Vane; always
regard me as your friend, and allow me to say that my in



432                   DE VANE.
terest in you is far deeper since this conversation than it
was before."
De Vane bowed. Esther had never hinted to Miss Godolphin her interest in De Vane, nor had she at any time
referred to their relations;'but her observation had satisfied Miss Godolphin that a nature so noble, pure, and true
as that of Esther, if impressed at all, must be so ineffaceably. Her heart, she felt, was like the plant that blooms
but once, exhales its sweetness, and then dies. She had
felt it to be her duty to speak to Esther some weeks since
in regard to De Vane, to explain to her the peculiarities of
his family, the hopes founded upon the expected alliance
with Miss Guilford; and she had related to Esther, for the
first time, her own past; her relations to the family of Sir
George Godolphin; and the suffering which she had endured. In the conversation which had taken place at Leasowes, and in which De Vane had heard himself named,
Miss Godolphin had made this communication to Esther.
At this moment several persons came to the sofa where
De Vane and Miss Godolphin were seated, and spoke with
them, breaking off a conversation intensely interesting to
those who were engaged in it, and turning upon subjects
which must have led to farther explanations, if it had continued; but society is imperious, and presently quite a
general and sparkling talk sprang up, in which Miss Godolphin bore a leading part.
Music followed, Miss Godolphin taking the piano, and
Esther accompanying her with her voice, in one of those
grand old songs which made every thing yield before the
sway of passion uttering itself in the language of poetry,
and borrowing harmony to raise and spiritualize it. And
so the evening wore away, and the guests departed.
Not all to sleep, however; for Waring and De Vane
outsat the early hours of the night in conversation; and
Miss Godolphin and Esther invoked tired nature's sweet




DE VANE.                   433
restorer all in vain, until long after midnight, when they
sank into slumbers full of dreams, in which the majestic
form of the wild prophetess stood once more before them,
speaking of the past and the future.
The next day, at twelve o'clock, De Vane called on Esther, and was received by her in the drawing-room.
"I hope," said he, "that you are bright to-day, and
that you have suffered nothing from the adventure of
yesterday."
"Not quite bright," said Esther. "I found it impossible to sleep last night. Visions of the strange woman
whom we met floated before me, until daylight streamed
in through the windows, bringing quite a sense of relief."
"She seemed to impress you," said De Vane; " and she
was certainly an extraordinary person to meet on the roadside. I intend to ride out to the same spot this evening,
to see if any trace of her can be found."
"Do," said Esther. "I feel the greatest interest in
knowing more of her.  My aunt agrees in thinking it
must be the person whom my uncle described to us last
evening.".
"I do not doubt it," said De Vane. "How strange it
is that such beings utter words, which seem to come
freighted with supernatural meaning and emphasis! It is
very remarkable that upon returning to my room last
evening, my servant handed me a package of letters, and
among them was one from my aunt. It is very long, but
I shall put it in your hands to read, for I intend, Esther,
to treat you throughout our intercourse with perfect frankness. I can give you no higher proof of my love and confidence."
He handed her the letter, and added: " Do not read it
now. I shall leave it with you. You will observe that
the prediction of the sibyl is speedily verified; clouds be19




434                   DE VANE.
gin to overspread our path. But let us take courage; they
will not linger forever."
A deep flush overspread Esther's face, but she was
silent.
" My father," continued De Vane, "does not know you,
and his conventional prejudices are like the Virginia
mountains, deep-seated, and shrouded often in mists and
clouds, which shut out the light and warmth of the brightest and purest mornings. I am not surprised at this. I
looked for it, but my aunt, like a glorious woman as she
is, is forus, Esther, and that secures every thing. It delights me, and fills me with hope."
Esther looked at the address of the letter which she
held in her hand. The writing had a stateliness about it,
and elegance. It was thoroughly English, and, she fancied, thoroughly aristocratic.
"I am happy to know," she said, "that Mrs. De Vane
regards me kindly. I am of course indebted to you for
that."
" I have only described you as you are, Esther," said De
Vane; "and Mrs. De Vane has great confidence in my
taste and judgment. We often spoke of you when I was
in Virginia; and when she became satisfied that her plans
for me respecting Miss Guilford would not succeed, she
began to hear my representation of you favorably. But
my last letter, in which I described an interview at Leasowes, seems to have completed the conquest, and she is
now earnestly our friend."
Esther smiled.
"We must be brave, Esther," he continued.  "My father's confidence in Mrs. De Vane is fathomless.  He
knows how fastidious she is, and how thoroughly devoted
she.is to caste. I shall bring every thing right, and our
sky will yet be cloudless."
"You must not suffer me, Mr. De Vane," she said, "to




DE VANE.                   435
introduce unhappiness into your family. I should be
wretched if I saw any estrangement between you and
your father. Never, never could I forgive myself if that
should follow."
"My dearest Esther," said De Vane, " you must take a
brighter view of our relations. I can await the passing
away of the clouds. Can you not?"
"I have already said," replied Esther, " that you need
not doubt my interest in you. It is too sincere to permit
me to darken your home, by bringing the shadow of your
father's displeasure upon you.  You need not fear any
change in my regard for you, but every consideration satisfies me that there should be no change in our relations
without the full approbation of General De Vane."
Her soul, full of truth, shone through her eyes, and she
seemed almost majestic as with tones sad and gentle, but
firm and steady, she uttered these words; as a priestess
of Apollo glowing with earthly love, but yet true to the
vows which bound her still to minister at the altar, might
repel the love who sought to lead her away from the temple where she worshiped.
"Well, Esther," said De Vane, "I can not doubt the
future. I will never relinquish you; never but with life
itself. Life to me without you is desolate. I scorn its
highest prizes, its ambition, its glory; and as to its heartless, soulless conventionalisms, I hate and trample upon
them. The paltry things that the world values, I detest;
and the stately establishments which it sets up and venerates are but pyramids to hold the ashes of the dead-hollow, gloomy vaults, where every thing is cold and lifeless."
The young patrician rose from his seat, and stood in the
full height of his strength and pride. He felt that he was
a MAN.
"They shall never bind me," he continued, " with their




436                   DE VANE.
fetters, golden though they be; nor compel me to bow
before their false gods. While I live in this breathing
world, I will give my soul its full expansion, and whatever
place the world may assign me, I shall preserve my selfrespect. Ancestral honors! family alliances! what are
these to me?  The poor Indian exchanges his gold for
glass bears, and fancies himself happy; but I will never
sell my soul for the world's baubles."
His form towered, as he uttered these words with startling energy; and Esther felt that she had never seen him
when he appeared so full of glorious manhood.  Heseemed a demi-god roused to indignation, and yet restraining the passion that shook his soul. He strode across the
floor several times, and, turning to Esther, said with gentleness: "I leave Mrs. De Vane's letter with you, Esther.
I can not trust myself to speak of these things just now.
Good morning!"
Esther gave him her hand. He grasped it with energy,
and, bowing low, walked away.
The mid-day sun was in the heavens, and drifting clouds,
sweeping away to the eastward, left his disk unvailed.
De Vane thought of the sibyl.
In the evening, De Vane and Waring rode to the spot,
the scene of the adventure of the previous day; but they
could find no trace of the strange being who had startled
their party.
They rode into the neighboring woods, but they sought
in vain for the prophetess or her people. The only sign
of any stranger footprints to be discovered was near a
spring of pure and abundant water, some half-mile from
the road. There a party had evidently pitched their tents,
but they were already gone, and silence reigned over the
spot.




CHAPTER XI.
"UPON her face there was the tint of griefThe settled shadow of an inward strifeAnd an unquiet drooping of the eye,
As if its lid were charged with unshed tears.
What could her grief be?"
LORD BYRON.
THE effect of the appearance of the sibyl upon Miss
Godolphin's spirits, was even more marked and abiding
than on Esther's.  Her sadness seemed to return with increased power. She re-visited the past; and the-gloom
which was passing away reasserted its dominion.  Like
the starlit heavens over which drifting clouds fly, obscuring their glory for a time, but leaving the orbs which burn
in the far depths the brighter for the passing shadow, all
the splendid qualities of her nature were shining out with
increasing brilliancy, as her melancholy gave way.  But
now, deeper gloom  overspread her soul, than when she
first returned from Europe. Esther observed this with
great pain, and sought to attract her from the dark stream
where she had seated herself, hanging her harp, like a captive Jewish maiden, upon the willows which fringed its
banks.  She was much with her; placed in her hands
books which might interest her, and brought her under
the influence, as often as possible, of those elevating and
consoling views of life which cheered her own heart.
Calling one morning on her, she found her seated in her
boudoir, with a letter lying before her, with its margin
deeply traced with the lines of mourning, and it was wet
(437)




488                   DE VANE.
with tears-fresh tears, though the letter was an old one;
and Esther, underan impulse which she could not resist,
threw herself on the sofa by the side of her friend, and put
her arms around her tenderly. Miss Godolphin, inexpressibly touched by a mark of sympathy so warm, from
one whose habitual self-restraint made her sometimes
appear even cold, laid her head on Esther's shoulder, and
wept as if the fountains of sensibility would pour out all
their floods. Soothed by Esther's gentleness, she at length
lifted her head-that proud, beautiful, splendid head-and
kissed her friend passionately, and then, smiling through
her tears, she said:
"You will think me weak, Esther, very weak. I do not
know that you have seen me weep before. But I have
been re-visiting the past, and it has overwhelmed me with
its shadows."
She handed Esther the open letter. It was from Sir
George Godolphin-that in which he reproached her with
having brought sorrow and desolation upon his house.
It was a cruel letter, and it had crushed her spirit.
After reading it, Esther folded it and laid it on the
escritoire.
"Hortensia," she said, "let me speak with you freely.
You are ungenerous with yourself. You have become an
ally of Sir George in accusing yourself. A more cruel letter-a more unjust one I never read. The visit to his
house was at his own solicitation; his son was thrown in
your way; you dealt honestly with him throughout; you
left England; he followed you to the Continent; you never
at any time encouraged his addresses; and when you persisted in declining to yield to his wishes, he surrendered
himself to a generous but wild adventure, which bore him
away from his home and his country, it seems forever."
" Yes, but I encouraged him, Esther. I cheered him on
in the glorious but perilous course which he had resolved




DE VANE.                    439
to pursue, and which would never have been entered on if
I had given him any hope for the future."
"But," exclaimed Esther, "you never loved him. Why
should you sacrifice yourself for. a man whom you never
loved, and never could have loved?"
"Oh! never, never! But still, Esther, he loved me,
and but for me hle would now be the caressed and honored
son of a stately but now broken-hearted nobleman, who
sees his hopes extinguished forever."
"Hortensia," said Esther earnestly, "have you searched'
your heart? Was there no love in it? no slightest interest
which time might have developed?"
Miss Godolphin hesitated not a moment. She replied
instantly, and with her natural energy:
"My heart required no searching. I never loved himnever, never-nor would it be possible for me to love him,
if he stood before me to-day in all the strength of his
young manhood."
"Then," said Esther, with a beaming smile, "you must
dismiss this sadness. I assure you it ought not to darken
your life a moment. I am qualified to judge the case.
My interest in you has made me study it, and I am perfectly sure that there is nothing whatever with which you
should reproach yourself."
"Thank you, dearest Esther," said Miss Godolphin.
"You are indeed an angel visiting me in the wilderness,
to comfort and guide me; and I will try to drink of the
waters of consolation which you have shown me." Both
smiled through their tears, for Esther had wept with her
friend.
It was a beautiful picture-two young beings, so contrasted in their personal appearance, yet both surpassingly
lovely; the one with her profuse fair hair falling in rich
curls about her bright face, the other with her dark locks
braided in heavy masses and gathered in a clasp of gold




440                    DE VANE.
at the back of the head, leaving the full outline of her
classical features visible; seated side by side, as if an
angel, quitting heaven for a season, had come to visit
and cheer another who was striving with passions which
would not permit her yet to rise to her celestial home.
"The appearance and language of the strange woman
whom we saw on the roadside," said Miss Godolphin, " in
some way revived the past powerfully. The allusion to
darkening young days, and the whole aspect of the extraordinary being, affected me strangely."
" I have observed it," said Esther, "and can sympathize
with you, for I was startled and saddened by it myself;
but I have reasoned myself out of it. There can be nothing
in what she has said."
"I do not know," said Miss Godolphin. "I almost believe that some beings do, in some way, read coming
events."
"Oh! no," said Esther. "It can not be."
" Of course," said Miss Godolphin, "reason rejects their
claims to supernatural power; and yet it is wonderful that
their predictions are sometimes verified by succeeding
events. I well remember that the evening before my
cousin started on that disastrous adventure, a woman, not
unlike her whom we saw a few days since, came to the
spot where we were standing, and looking wildly into his
face, uttered a solemn warning to him, not to make the
journey which he contemplated.  He laughed at her
words; but she repeated them, saying that if he persisted
in going, sorrow would darken his father's house. Oh!
I remember so vividly her appearance and her words. The
brave young man flushed for a moment at the woman's
earnestness, but putting a piece of gold in her hand, he
turned from her, and we walked away."
"Such things are strange," said Esther. "But it is quite




DE VANE.                   441
impossible that one can read the future without divine enlightenment; and we know they do not possess that."
"Perhaps I am  superstitious," said Miss Godolphin;
"but I can not free myself from the dominion which such
beings exert over me."
"Every one," said Esther, "I suppose, has a tinge of
superstition, which gives its coloring to life. I am very
sensible of it. I require some time to bring my reason to
my aid; and for days after meeting the strange woman
who startled us, I could not regain my composure."' Is it not related of King Saul, that he consulted the
Witch of Endor?" asked Miss Godolphin.
" Yes," replied Esther, " and the result was a great shock
to the stately king. When the prophet appeared, he fell
straightway'along the earth, and was sore afraid."''It is very wonderful," said Miss Godolphin. "What
power could the witch have possessed over Samuel?"
"None whatever," said Esther. "The appearance of
the prophet must have been permitted, to carry out the
purposes of God, in regard to the erring monarch. The
incantations of the pythoness could have had no power
over a prophet of God. It was when the king heard the
awful words from the lips of the prophet, that on the next
day he and his sons were to be slain in battle, that, overwhelmed with such a heavy message, his strength gave
way, and he fell prostrate."
"My heart always mourns over his fate," said Miss Godolphin. " I have heard Mr. Waring describe him in a
way that interested and saddened me beyond expression:
his early life, his modesty, his splendid person, his grand
administration of the affairs of his kingdom, his declining
fortunes, his clinging to the sceptre until it was torn from
his grasp on a bloody field; and then his regal courage,
and his death upon a mountain-side from which he could
19*




442                   DE VANE.
look out upon the lost battle, a disaster which his pride
would not suffer him to survive."
The next day Waring called at Leasowes, and held a
long conversation with Esther.  He had observed the
deepening gloom of Miss Godolphin, and it saddened him.
The cloud which threw its shadow upon her, wrapped
him too in its folds, for his interest in her had become so
strong, as to control his thoughts and emotions.
Esther dealt with him frankly. She knew that De Vane
had informed him of the history of Miss Godolphin, and
she therefore spoke with the greater freedom. Her interest
in Waring could not have been greater if he had been a
brother. She was resolved that he should not be deceived
in any thing, if she could prevent it; and therefore, when
he spoke to her at Leasowes, she gave him a full statement
of facts so far as she was herself acquainted with them.
"This I learned," she said, in concluding her statement,
"from  Miss Godolphin, and I am sure, that so far from
wishing to conceal it from you, she would desire you to be
fully informed of it.
"It corresponds perfectly," said Waring, "with what
De Vane said to me; and he heard the facts from Miss
Guilford. But upon one point, I wish you to speak to me
without reserve.  Did Miss Godolphin ever love her
cousin?"
"Never," said Esther. " Of that I am fully assured.
She herself spoke to me in a way to satisfy me that her
heart was never interested. On that you may rely."
"Why, then," said Waring, "this sadness-this protracted grief?"
"It springs," said Esther, "from deep sensibility, and
from unjust self-accusation. That is the sole cause of it,
I assure you. She has suffered beyond description; but
if her cousin stood before her to-day, to urge his suit, she
would reject him."




DE VANE.                   443
Waring looked relieved.
"Thank you, my friend," he said, "thank you. I need
not explain to you why I have sought this interview. Of
course, you comprehend the nature of my interest in Miss
Godolphin."
Esther smiled. "I think so," she said.
"I do not know how Miss Godolphin regards me. She
is so brilliant, and is, in some respects, so aristocratic, that
it is impossible to say how she may view me, my opinions,
my creed, or my people."
Esther was silent for a moment. She felt the extreme
difficulty of her position. She did not know how Miss
Godolphin regarded her friend, and she thought it possible
Waring's apprehensions were not unfounded.
"Miss Godolphin's nature," she said at length, "is a
noble one. She has heart, but I think that her habitual
sadness-produced by the fate of her cousin-has prevented
her feeling an interest in any one, beyond that of friendship."
" I hope," said Waring, " that you will permit me sometimes to speak with you upon this subject."
"Most willingly," said Esther. "You know, Mr. Waring, that you are my brother."
"And you may be assured that I shall be, while I live,"
said  Waring.
He took his leave; and Esther felt a strong desire to do
what she could to make brighter and happier the path of
the noble and true man, whose pure heart and great intellect were consecrated to the noblest task of life, and who,
with all his learning, had the guileless simplicity of a little child.




CHAPTER  XII.
"A CHANGE came o'er the spirit of my dream;
The Wanderer was returned."
LORD BYRON.
ON Saturday morning, Esther had gone to Leasowes
early, intending to pass an hour or two with the little
girls before going into the town. It was her wish to
visit the book-store of Mr. Mutller, that she might select
something to present to Mr. Springfield, upon the recurrence of his birthday-a mark of respect and affection
which she never omitted.
She had been in her grounds but a half-hour, and was
walking with little Mary Sinclair and one or two others,
when she saw Mrs. Habersham's coach dash up to the
gate. The footman threw open the door, and Miss Godolphin, leaping out, disdaining the steps, rushed through
the gate, and sprang to where Esther was standing in the
midst of the little group, who, dismayed at her impetuosity, gave way. She threw her arms about Esther, and
exclaimed:
"0 Esther! Esther! he lives! He has reached England!"
Her agitation was very great. Her face was glowing,
and it beamed with a joy which Esther had never seen it
wear before.
"Do you not understand?" she exclaimed. "Hubert
Godolphin, my cousin, who was lost to us, is living, and
has returned to England."
(444)




DE VANE.                   445
"Oh! is it possible?" cried Esther. " The dead is
alive, and the lost is found."
"Yes," said Miss Godolphin, " that beautiful saying is
realized perfectly. I have just received a letter from Sir
George, overflowing with kindness. He begs me to pardon all his harshness. Oh! what a mountain has rolled
from me! It really seems as if the words of the strange
woman had already been fulfilled-that the darkness which
clouds the morning passes away, leaving the heavens brighter than ever before."
Iow resplendent she was, standing in the October sun,
the whole face and form radiant with joy! She accompanied Esther to the house, and handed her Sir George's
letter. It recounted the adventures of his son. He was
dangerously wounded, but not slain in battle, and had
been carried a prisoner into the mountains, where he had
passed some three years, before he could effect a communication with the British Minister at Constantinople.
After that, he was speedily released, returned to England,
and intends now to visit the United States."
" Then we shall see him here," said Esther.
" So it seems," said Miss Godolphin. " We shall expect
him daily, until his arrival. Oh! you can not imagine
how happy I am."
Esther looked a little grave. She was the soul of truth.
She had assured Waring that Miss Godolphin had never
loved her cousin. Had she misinterpreted her own heart,
when she said so to Esther? Did she really love him?
Would his loyalty, under so many adverse circumstances,
win her heart, if he had never succeeded in doing so
hitherto?
She trembled a little for Waring; but a few weeks
would decide the questions which she so rapidly addressed
to herself. Her solicitude was so great, that it appeared
in her manner. Miss Godolphin observed it, and said:




446                   DE VANE.
" You do not sympathize with me, Esther. Oh! if you
could know what I have suffered, you would rejoice with
me."
"I do rejoice with you, dear Hortensia, heartily," she
said. "No one has felt a truer sympathy with you than
myself."
She rose, and kissed Miss Godolphin fervently.
"And now," said Miss Godolphin, " I must hasten back
to my aunt. These letters came only this morning, and
after we had read them, I said to her that I miust see you,
and let you know my joy."
They embraced each other, and Miss Godolphin was
about leaving the house, when, turning again to Esther,
she said:
"But you are not to pass all the morning here. Will
you not take a seat with me, and drive into the town?"
"With pleasure," said Esther. "Let me detain you
but a moment."
Giving some directions to Mrs. Green, she accompanied
Miss Godolphin to the carriage, and driving to the bookstore, she entered it, to make her selection for Mr. Springfield's library.
After looking over the shelves for some time, turning
to the table where the books just received were placed,
she found a fine copy of Jeremy Taylor's works, an English edition, just imported, and she directed that it should
be sent to her.
She was about to leave the store, when Waring and De
Vane entered it, and seeing her, walked to the alcove
where she was standing.
"We are fortunate, Miss Wordsworth," said Waring.
" We did not know that we should meet you here."
Esther explained the object of her coming, and showed
the volumes which she had purchased.
"They are bleautiful," said De Vane; "and the little




DE VANE.                    447
acquaintance that I have with the writings of Jeremy
Taylor, makes me desire to read his works at length."
"They are most attractive," said Waring. "They are
as varied and beautiful as nature."
Stepping to the counter where Mr. Muller stood, he
inquired if he could duplicate the set which Miss Wordsworth had just purchased; and being informed that there
was one more copy, bound in somewhat different style, he
directed that it should be stamped with  the. words,
GEORGE DE VANE, on each volume, and sent to Mrs.
Bowen's.
Returning to where De Vane and Esther were standing,
she said: " I have a very gratifying piece of intelligence
to communicate."
Both the gentlemen looked eagerly at her, and awaited
her words.. She then proceeded to inform  them  of the
facts made known to her by Miss Godolphin, in regard to
her cousin, Hubert Godolphin. Both expressed their astonishment and their gratification.
"And how does it affect Miss Godolphin?" asked De
Vane.
"It has filled her with joy," said Esther. "Never have
I witnessed such an effect produced by a letter, as Sir
George Godolphin's produced on her. It was an ample
apology for all his previous want of generosity; a full
atonement, so far as an acknowledgment of the kind could
constitute it, for his harshness."
"And the heaven of her soul will now be cloudless,"
said De Vane.
"Yes," said Esther, with emphasis. "And I must inform you, also, that Hubert Godolphin is to visit his
cousin immediately, and bear his father's acknowledgments in person, for past injustice."
Waring's face flushed, and De Vane looked surprised.
" It is all very strange," said De Vane.  " 2lehercule!




448                   DE VANE.
Waring, I believe that the sibyl saw the coming event,
when she looked so steadily at Miss Godolphin, and uttered those remarkable words."
"It is simply," said Waring gently, " one of those remarkable things which sometimes occur in the moral
world, to startle us."
He looked a little troubled. Esther felt for him. She
had almost dreaded to make the communication to him;
but she thought it better that he should hear it from her,
rather than be startled by the announcement from Miss
Godolphin, with her exuberant joy.
" I am somewhat curious to see a gentleman who has
endured such fortunes," said De Vane. " When is he to
arrive?"
" He is to be looked for daily, as he was to sail in the
next vessel after that which brought his letters."
Waring was very grave; but his self-possession had returned, and he entered into cheerful conversation with De
Vane and Esther upon the effect which this event must
produce upon Miss Godolphin.
After speaking of books and friends, Esther left the
store, and Waring and De Vane soon followed, walking
slowly homeward.
"By the way, Waring," said De Vane," let us take the
shop of our friend Hobbs in the way, and give him instructions about our horses; their shoes want attention."
Waring assenting, they visited the blacksmith; and it
being his habit to rest at noon, they found him deep in a
book, as if utterly unconscious of forge and sledge-hammer.
"How are you, Mr. Hobbs?" said De Vane, rousing
him.
"Bless my soul and body, Mr. De Vane, is that you?
I'm well, thank'ee. How is it with yourself?  How d'ye
do, Mr. Waring?"




DE VANE.                   449
"We are both pretty well, Mr. Hobbs," said De Vane.
" Our horseback exercise does us good."
"Nothing like it in the world, sir," said Mr. Hobbs,
"but striking with-the sledge-hammer; that'll cure any
dyspeptic in the world."
"I suspect you are right," said Waring.  "But, Mr.
Hobbs, we should soon break down at that business."
"Not a bit of it," said the blacksmith. " I didn't weigh
a hundred and thirty when I began the trade, and now I
go hard on to two hundred."
The gentlemen both laughed as the honest blacksmith
raised himself to his full height, and looked as if he could
give Hercules a tight wrestle.
" What are you reading to-day, Mr. Hobbs?" asked De
Vane.
"Why, sir," said he, "my boy, who is named after General Marion, brought home his life, by Weems, that Mrs.
Steele, his school-teacher, gave him; and I was reading
that."
"A very interesting book," said De Vane. " I like to
read it myself."
" It is interesting," said the blacksmith. "Jasper and
Newton gave them chaps that they attacked thunder."
"Oh! yes," said De Vane; "they were brave fellows."
"But the best thing in the book," continued the blacksmith, " is where Sergeant McDonald got Seline out of the
clutches of that infernal old tory. I should have liked to
have the shoeing of that horse.  I'd have done it for McDonald all the days of his life without charging him a
cent."
Perceiving that Mr. Hobbs was becoming rather animated, De Vane said: " Speaking of shoeing horses, we
called to request you to pay special attention to the feet
of ours.  Perhaps it would be well to make their shoes
somewhat lighter."




450                   DE VANE.
"I like a good heavy shoe on a horse, myself," said the
blacksmith; "but as you so seldom drive yours, it mnay
be just as well to make them lighter."
"Do," said De Vane; "and instead of heels, make the
swell in the shoe a little fuller at the back part of the foot,
and the toe thinner."
"I'll do it, sir," said Mr. Hobbs, "but the shoes won't
last any time."
" Oh! never mind that," said De Vane. "We do not
ride a great deal."
"That horse of yours, Mr. Waring," said the blacksmith, "is the best conditioned thing that ever I saw.
He's most equal to Miss Wordsworth's horse."
"I am glad to hear you speak well of him," said Waring; " and if he equals Miss Wordsworth's horse,'he must
be fine."
"That horse," said the blacksmith, " has got almost as
much sense as a human. I've seen Miss Wordsworth
riding him, and the way he behaves himself is beautiful;
and when I go to shoe him, if I just tell him to hold up
his foot, he does it as natural as if he spoke English."
"I suspect he understands it," said Waring, laughing.
Bidding the blacksmith good-morning, they walked to
Mrs. Bowen's.
Waring's interview with the blacksmith had done him
good; and De Vane was pleased to see that he was becoming cheerful.
" That man," said Waring, " has a great amount of good
in him. He sees the strong points of a book at once. If
the fellow was not quite so strong in his language, I
should enjoy his conversation more."
"He restrains himself in your presence," said De Vane.
"If you could hear him indulge his vocabulary when I
am alone with him, you would pronounce him decidedly
emphatic."




DE VANE.                   451
"You must break the habit in him, De Vane. He has
great faith in you, and you can control him."
"I have once or twice remonstrated with him," said De
Vane, "but, before he knows it, he breaks out again. I
must give him the names of some of the heathen gods to
swear by —Vulcan, for instance."
Waring laughed, and they entered the house.
Some short time after De Vane had entered his room,
Mr. Muiller's messenger came with the package of books,
which he said he had been directed to leave there.
"There must be some mistake," said De Vane.  "I
made no purchase at the book-store this morning."
" Mr. Mtiller said they were for you, sir," said the messenger; and setting down his basket, he laid the books
on the table.
De Vane opened the package, and found his name,
stamped in gold, on the back.
"Mr. Waring bought them, sir," said the messenger,
"and said they were to be left here for you."
De Vane at once comprehended it, and dismissed the
messenger.
He was touched by this act of kindness on the part of
Waring. The selection of books, the delicacy with which
it was done, and the value of the gift, were felt by him.
When he met Waring in the evening, he thanked him
warmly, and assured him that he could have made him no
more acceptable gift.
"I trust, De Vane," he said, "that you will find your
interest in the grand old preacher increase as you read his
works. There is a wonderful richness in his style, and a
refreshing purity pervading his teachings, of which one
never grows weary."
" I shall put myself under his instructions systematically," said De Vane, " and shall endeavor to follow them
faithfully."




452                   DE VANE.
Waring was delighted. He felt that the taste of De
Vane would not only not be offended by the works which
he had put into his hands, but that their beauties would
allure him into far deeper researches than he could be induced to make in any theological writings less attractive.
And this pure, generous, thorough Christian found, in his
effort to bring his friend into the path of life, something
to brighten his own spirit, just now troubled by apprehensions respecting his relations with Miss Godolphin, as
the clouds which skirt the horizon are sometimes illumined with golden tints by a warm ray of light streaming
upon them from the sun, which- they mantle with their
drapery as he sinks to rest.




CHAPTER  XIII.
Lt HAD not known her long, but loved her more
Than I could dream of then. Oh! even now
I dare not dwell upon my passion: more
Than life itself I loved her, and still love."
WILLIAM CROSS WILLIAMSON.
THE town was unusually gay. The assembling of the
Legislature had brought there the most eminent men in
the State, who were either members of that body, or who
came as visitors, many of them bringing their families, to
pass a few weeks at a place so attractive. Some of them
took  furnished  houses, and entertained  handsomely;
brought their equipages, servants, and plate with them;
and the little capital shone with a far higher splendor than
many larger ones. The triumph of General Jackson was
complete; and the prospect of a new administration, coming in with so much of popular favor, lent extraordinary
interest to political topics.
Mr. Clarendon was in the highest spirits. He entertained magnificently, and assembled at his house, from
time to time, the most brilliant people. De Vane was
recognized as a man of great promise, and he received
marked and flattering attentions from the leading men of
the State. Mr. Le Grande was known to be his friend, and
Mr. Clarendon openly predicted his future eminence. A
grand career was opening before him. As a very marked
compliment, he was invited by Mr. Le Grande to meet at
dinner a select number of the most eminent men in the
State, where the programme of the incoming Administra(453)




454                   DE VANE.
tion was discussed, its policy foreshadowed, and the members of the Cabinet were brought on the tapis-a political
dinner, where the work of the whole political campaign
was laid out. Nor was it an empty compliment paid to De
Vane, for he was drawn out in conversation, and his large
views were appreciated by the eminent men who sat with
him. Self-possessed, and yet deferential to men of larger
experience than himself, he expressed his opinions with
freedom when called out; and so successfully did he represent them, that he made an impression upon that small but
brilliant assemblage that never was effaced.
The session of the Legislature was one of unusual interest; and Mr. Le Grande distinguished himself by a luminous speech upon a proposition which had been brought
forward to reduce the laws of the State into a code.
It being understood that he was to speak on a certain
day, the galleries and lobbies were thronged, and among
the number De Vane and Esther were seen favorably
seated.
There, too, Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin, attended by Waring, had seats. Mrs. Clarendon was present,
with two or three ladies from the sea-board, attended by
Mr. Clarendon.
The speech of Mr. Le Grande was made in opposition to
the measure. He insisted that a great system like their
law could not advantageously be embraced within a code;
that the Code of Napoleon afforded no proper precedent for
any such undertaking; that our law had grown up with
society, advancing with its progress, accommodating itself
to its wants; and that Napoleon introduced his Code
really to reconstruct society, when the French Revolution
had swept away every thing established, and had overthrown all barriers.  The argument was fine, and it
heightened the reputation even of Mr. Le Grande. The
scheme was defeated.




DE'VANE.                   455
At this session, too, a case of impeachment came up, of
very great interest. It affected the privileges of an eminent citizen, whose public services and high personal qualities endeared him to the people of the State. Several of
the ablest members of the House of Representatives were
appointed to conduct the prosecution, the Senate being-the
tribunal before which it was heard. The defense was confided to Mr. Clarendon. He conducted it with so much
ability, so much energy, so much grace, so much learning,
that it earned for him imperishable renown. The whole
trial, from the beginning to the end, was most impressive.
The venerable man who took his seat day after day with
meek dignity, the august tribunal before which he was arraigned, the deep sympathy felt for him by his judges, the
recollection of his public services, the clouds which were
already hanging their solemn drapery around the far-advanced evening of his life, the splendid array of talent in
the committee selected to conduct the prosecution, and
the brilliant and powerful exhibition of intellect and ardor
shown by his great advocate-all contributed to make it
a deeply affecting spectacle, over which a sad splendor
reigned throughout. Mr. Clarendon's speech was full of
learning and eloquence, rivaling the highest oratorical
display which was elicited upon the trial of Warren Hastings; and if it had been delivered in Westminster Hall, on
such an occasion, it would have ranked him at once with
the great Parliamentary speakers whose fame is limited
only by the bounds of civilization. Uttered where it was,
in the presence of an audience as cultivated and appreciative as any country could furnish, it won for him the
highest distinction, and inaugurated that splendid career
which the whole nation subsequently witnessed. Powerful and brilliant as the defense was, it could not avert the
solemn sentence which the great tribunal was compelled,
fioom a controlling sense of duty, to deliver.  But even




456                   DE VANE.
then, the brief, subdued, but beautiful speech which the
venerable man uttered as he bowed before the inexorable
authority of his judges, prepared by Mr. Clarendon, melted them to tears; and the words of the President of the
Senate, sonorous and full of dignity, touched with a generous sympathy, almost trembled as they conveyed the stern
judgment of a court too pure to yield to passion, and too
great not to be affected by such a spectacle-age and suffering appealing in vain in sight of the form of Justice
holding aloft the scales in the clear light of Truth.
De Vane heard Mr. Clarendon's great speech with uncontrollable enthusiasm. It swept him like a torrent, and
Esther, who was seated by his side, observed him, as the
grand and ardent nature of the young Virginian, fired by
the oratory of his noble friend, flamed up with full sympathy and increased admiration.
" Mehercule! Miss Wordsworth," he exclaimed, " the
world rarely hears any thing like that. It is the revivification of the godlike speech which was uttered under the
skies of Greece. It has never been excelled, in ancient or
modern times."
" Glorious!" said Esther, " glorious! 0 Mr. De Vane!
what power there is in eloquence. Neither the thunder of
cannon nor the fury of the storm itself can rival it. It is,
as you say, godlike.?'
All around them there was the greatest enthusiasm, and
praises were lavished upon the orator. Presently they
met Waring and his party, and the friends greeted each
other in that warm way which prevails when great sentiments animate and control us.
" I'll venture to say," said Waring, addressing himself
to Esther, "that De Vane has been swearing by Hercules.
Has he not, now?"
She laughed, and said: " I believe I did hear some such
classical exclamation, but I think it must be pardoned, and




DE VANE.                   457
conceded as an involuntary tribute to surpassing eloquence."
" Certainly," said Miss Godolphin; " Mr. De Vane should
be allowed to swear by all the gods of Olympus in witnessing such a triumph of his friend."
At this moment Mr. Clarendon, accompanied by Mr. Le
Grande, came up to the group, where they stood waiting
to receive him, and they offered him their congratulations.
He thanked them, and said: "Would that I could have
done more for the old man! His gray hairs appeal to me
in a way that is positively dreadful. I suffer unspeakably."
"Then you can not save him?" exclaimed Esther.
"My dear child," said he, laying his hand kindly on
hers, "I fear not."
"It is too sad," said Miss Godolphin, her eyes filling
with tears.
They entered their carriages and drove away. It was
as Mr. Clarendon feared it would be, but it afforded one of
the finest exhibitions of the ascendency of the higher qualities of humanity which the'world has ever witnessed.
In the course of the session, Mr. Hallam was elected one
of the Chancellors of the State, and became associated
with the venerable Chancellor De Lolme, whose learning,
accomplishments, and manners had long adorned that
bench, and whose elegant hospitality contributed largely
to refine and elevate the tone of the society in which he
lived.
Some few days after the delivery of Mr. Clarendon's
great speech, De Vane met him walking toward the State
House, with a gentleman whose appearance at once interested him. He was evidently a stranger, as evidently a
foreigner, and there was in his manner something so distinctly aristocratic, that it was impossible to overlook it.
His features, without being decidedly intellectual, were
20




458                   DE VANE.
fine; his complexion was dark, as were his hair and eyes;
and there was a manliness in his bearing which imparted
unusual dignity to the appearance of one so young-he
could scarcely be thirty. As De Vane was about to pass,
after lifting his hat to Mr. Clarendon, that gentleman said:
" Excuse me, Mr. De Vane, for detaining you a moment.
I wish to present you to Mr. Godolphin, son of Sir George,
who has just arrived from England."
After an interchange of the usual civilities, the gentlemen separated, and De Vane walked directly to Mr. Springfield's; and upon being shown into the library, asked for
Miss Wordsworth. Esther had but a moment before returned from Leasowes, and coming into the room with hat
and shawl on, she said:
"Rather than keep you waiting, Mr. De Vane, I come
without even stopping to take off my hat."
" Thank you," said De Vane, rising to take her extended
hand. "I was anxious to see you, and I am glad that you
are so prompt in coming to meet me. Do you know that
Hubert Godolphin is here?"'" Indeed!" exclaimed Esther,-becoming very pale. "No,
I had not heard it. Have you seen him?"
" Yes," said De Vane. " I met him on the sidewalk with
Mr. Clarendon, who presented me to him. Have you met
Miss Godolphin this morning?"
"I have not," said Esther. "I have been all the morning at Leasowes. Do you know when Mr. Godolphin arrived?"
"Last night," said De Vane. "He brings letters of introduction to Mr. Clarendon, and he has gone with him to
the State House, to present him to Mr. Le Grande, and
some two or three celebrities besides. I feel the greatest
anxiety to know how Miss Godolphin will receive her
cousin. My interest in Waring is such, that I am positively unhappy about him. His nature has wonderful depth,




DE VANE.                    459
and he is attached to Miss Godolphin in a way to involve
his happiness for life. If he should be disappointed in her,
I do not know how he could bear it. He is so noble, so
gentle and yet so strong, so pure, so full of truth, and
with such an intellect as to entitle him to the homage of
all men; that I do not know how any woman can resist
him, if he should honor her with his love."
Esther smiled at his earnestness, and said: "Your interest in Mr. Waring does not exceed my own. I have
observed, Miss Godolphin, and have wished to know
whether her regard for our friend is that of mere friendship, or something deeper and intenser; but I have not
been able to satisfy myself respecting what is at once so
interesting and so delicate a subject. That she does not
love Hubert Godolphin, I am confident; at least, I am very
confident that she has not loved him heretofore. What
his presence may effect, and this new proof of the strength
of his own attachment, I can not say; but her nature is
noble, and the earnestness and truth of her character really
rise into grandeur."
"Then Waring is safe!" exclaimed De Vane. "No woman of a really grand nature can refuse his love."
" You must not overlook," said Esther, "the influence
of caste. The tastes of Miss Godolphin might incline her
to the style of life which, as the wife of the son of Sir
George, she could lead, notwithstanding the contempt
which she avows for mere conventional rank, unaccompanied by refinement and worth."
"Never!" said De Vane, with great vehemence, "never!
I would stake a kingdom upon the loyalty of Miss Godolphin to those sentiments which I know, Esther, you prize
so highly. You must not suffer yourself to believe that
Waring is not prized just as highly as he would be, if he
were an earl's son."
"He is, of course, by you, Mr. De Vane, and by all who



460                   DE VANE.
feel as you do. But after all, he belongs to a despised
sect, and high as Miss Godolphin's nature is, it may be
that she would hesitate to walk through life by the side of
one who has consecrated himself to the task of preaching
the Gospel, not only to the rich and the great, but to the
poor and th'e outcast."
De Vane rose, and walked rapidly across the room several times. He was profoundly moved by Esther's language. He knew that she loved Waring as a sister loves
an only brother, and he saw that at this critical conjuncture of his fortunes, all her pride was roused for him;
he Was to be measured with a patrician, the son of a nobleman; wealth, family, every thing to aid the one, while
the other could only offer his own glorious nature and
splendid endowments, without fortune or rank to aid him.
And the very majesty of her own transcendent womanhood displayed itself in behalf of her friend. Her form
rose to its full height, as she stood near the centre of the
library, andher large eyes blazed with full lustre. Never
had De Vane seen her more roused, never more splendidly
beautiful. Her height and color gave extraordinary brilliancy to her face, and the consciousness of speaking for
her friend, for her sect, for her people, for humanity in its
native worth-as compared with the pride of life, and the
pretension of rank, and the assumed glory of conventional
and privileged classes-imparted to her an air nothing
short of majestic. There she stood, a daughter of the people, and De Vane felt that in her presence the titled and
the great might bow their heads, encircled with coronets,
and bend their jeweled necks in homage.
"Esther," said he, "I should regard any woman with
immeasurable scorn, who could weigh fortune or rank
against the simple, native qualities of such a man as Waring. He absolutely ennobles the race by belonging to it.
He vindicates humanity from its low estate by the glory




DE VANE.                   461
of his nature. As to Miss Godolphin's estimate of him,
we shall see what disclosures time may make. He has
never yet spoken to her of love; nor will he, until this
visit of her cousin has ended. He is.too proud, or, perhaps
I ought to say, he has too much self-respect, to enter into
competition with any man for the hand of the woman he
loves."
Taking Esther's hand, he bent his head and touched it
with his lips, and left the house. As he walked toward
Mrs. Bowen's, he revolved every thing in connection with
the relations of Waring and Miss Godolphin, which could
in any way affect them, and yet he could reach no satisfactory conclusion. He sympathized with Esther's anxiety, and almost shared her jealous pride for Waring; for
he comprehended the full magnitude of the opposition
which was to be encountered by him in seeking the hand
of Miss Godolphin. His own relations with Esther were
clouded by influences springing from aristocratic prejudices, and he felt how powerful they were, even when directed against one so peerless as herself. - He saw, too,
that his own hopes were endangered by the view which
Esther was now disposed to take, of the inherent antagonism between the tastes of that aristocratic class and the
opinions and habits of her own people; and he knew her
well enough to comprehend that she would never consent
to ally herself to a family that looked with disdain upon a
people of whom she believed the world was not worthy.
She would never consent to be received into an aristocratic
circle as an exceptional case, with the understanding that
she was to look coldly upon her people and make her religious views as little obtrusive as possible. She was at
any time prepared, like the Jewish maiden, to offer up her
life as a sacrifice for the glory of the despised people to
which she belonged, and she would have smiled as she
yielded her pure bosom to the glittering steel of the heroic




462                   DE VANE.
hand that was to smite her;. but she could never renounce
them for the sake of an aristocratic or even royal alliance.
She was content, too, to endure whatever reproach or contempt Tnight be visited upon her people, and she would not
haye exchanged the privilege of being an humble worshiper in that chapel for a diadem, and all the splendor of the
most gorgeous establishments. All this De Vane felt, and
his passion deepened as he thought of her whom he had
just seen in all the glow of awakened and almost indignant
earnestness. He entered The house. Waring had not yet
arrived. Going to his own room, he found on his table an
invitation from Mr. Clarendon to meet Mr. Hubert Godolphin the next day at dinner.
Soon after, Waring entered the house, and presently
came into De Vane's room. He held in his hand a note.
It was an invitation from Clarendon to dinner. De Vane
rose to meet his friend with more than usual respect in his
manner, and offered him a seat.
"It seems," said Waring, " that Mr. Godolphin has arrived. Have you met him?"
" Yes," replied'De Vane, " I met him this morning, in
company with Mr. Clarendon. He came last night; and
we are to join him at dinner, to-morrow, when you will
have the opportunity of judging for yourself, how much
he is to be admired or dreaded."
Waring smiled, and said: "I see that you do not
intend to describe him. You go to Mr. Clarendon's, of
course?"
" Of course," replied De Vane; " and you?"
" Yes," said Waring. "Are there to be ladies, or is it
a dinner for gentlemen?"
"For gentlemen only, I suppose," said De Vane; "the
object being to introduce this young Englishman, who
rivals Othello, at least, in hair-breadth'scapes, to the
celebrities who are here, you being one of them."




DE VANE.                   463
",And you," said Waring.
"Oh!" said De Vane, laughing, "I am invited to see
the dignitaries, and to make myself agreeable generally.
I shall expect you to shine, Waring. You must lay aside
reserve, and give them an opportunity to see something
of that wealth which you so carefully conceal in general
society."
Waring smiled, but made no reply.
"The truth is," said De Vane, "it is only when you are
with friends-such, for instance, as Mr. Springfield, Mr.
Clarendon, and myself-that you seem at all disposed to
employ your capital; and while we are very much honored by your confidence, we feel a natural desire that others should know you as we do; so you must really rouse
yourself."
"Such is my organization," said Waring, " that I converse freely only with those who appreciate what I have
to say.  You never knew any one who was so much
affected by the audience he addresses, as I am. Unaffectedly, I grow warm and sympathizing when I am surrounded by those who are cultivated, and in whom genial nature
has created the living soul-not a mere half-torpid faculty
called by that name. Opaque bodies darken me, and
dense souls oppress me."
" I have observed it," said De Vane; "but we shall not
meet such people at Mr. Clarendon's. I have observed,
too, that you must be drawn out, to enable you to take
part in conversation in general Society, even when it is
composed of the most intellectual people. In short, I think
you are a little proud, and do not like to display your
power, unless you are invited to do so, or roused by opposition; then you are yourself. I would give a great deal
to see you fairly roused to-morrow, by Mr. Le G-lande, for
instance, or by Dr. Hume, if he should happen to be
present."




464                   DE VANE.
"We must hear Mr. Godolphin," said Waring, "It
would hardly be proper to engross the conversation at a
dinner-table where he is the honored guest."
" I am inclined to think that he would be very much
obliged to you for taking that part of the entertainment
off his hands," said De Vane, "if I may judge by his face.
He is pleasant-looking, but not intellectual."
" Ah!" said Waring. "Did you have much conversation with him?"
"Very little," replied De Vane. "He is gentlemanlike
and agreeable; but his aspect does not disclose the regnant mind."
"We must call on him," said Waring. "It is due to
Miss Godolphin, that every mark of respect should be paid
to her relative."
"Certainly," said De Vane. "Let us go now."
Calling at the hotel, they were informed that Mr. Godolphin had not yet returned from his walk; and leaving
their cards, the gentlemen returned to Mrs. Bowen's.
When Waring and De Vane entered the drawing-room
of Mr. Clarendon the next day, they found quite a large
party of gentlemen already assembled; at least, it was
large for a dinner at a private house, where the number
should not exceed twelve or fifteen, if it is to be genial,
and not strictly ceremonious and stately. The two Chancellors were there, and several of the eminent members of
the Legislature — r. Le Grande one of them; Dr. Hume,
Professor Niles, and Professor Waring, representing the
College. Mr. Godolphin had not arrived, but came not a
great while after, and the gentlemen present were formally presented to him by Mr. Clarendon.
Mrs. Clarendon did not make her appearance at the
table, and Mr. Clarendon seated Mr. Godolphin on his
right, with Mr. Le Grande for his vis-a-vis, placing Waring on the right of that gentleman, and De Vane on the




DE VANE.                   465
other side of him; so that the group were able to interchange conversation with each other with ease.
On the left of Mr. Clarendon sat Chancellor De Lolme,
whose elegant manners and fine conversational powers,
imparted a great charm to the party. Mr. Godolphin,
accustomed as he was to meet cultivated, refined, and eminent persons, soon felt that he was in the presence of men
of no common order; and as the conversation became free
and general, he could scarcely forbear to express his surprise and gratification; but while his own good breeding
restrained any remark of the kind, he exhibited in his
whole manner his appreciation of the gentlemen who surrounded him. He excelled in conversation, and was very
entertaining, because thoroughly informed as to the progress of events in the actual world. As to books, he did
not seem disposed to speak of them; so that when, by
some remark of Mr. Le Grande, addressed to Waring, the
subject of ethical philosophy, as it was treated on the
Continent, in contrast with the opinions held in England
and Scotland, came up, he took no part in it, but listened
with marked attention to the learned and brilliant discourse of those gentlemen.  De Vane's wish was fully
gratified, for Waring was thoroughly roused by Mr. Le
Grande, and he unconsciously displayed those rare treasures of intellect and learning, which his friends well knew
him to possess, but which he usually disclosed only.in
genial conversation with them, or from his Professor's
chair. For some time the whole party were attracted by
the conversation of the two gentlemen; and as it advanced, the fascination became so complete, that, it was
with reluctance the guests rose from the table, after a sitting so unusually long, that they found the hour was quite
late when they returned to the drawing-room to take their
coffee.
20*




466                   DE VANE.
Even Dr. Hume expressed his gratification, and coming
to where Mr. Le Grande was standing, he said:
"I am very much obliged to you, sir, for all that you
have said; and I hope at some time to hear the discussion
renewed between yourself and Professor Waring; you both
maintain your opinions well."
"You are very good," said Mr. Le Grande. "I think
the College has great reason to.be proud of the young
Professor."
"So we are, sir," said Dr. Hume. "He is skilled in
dialectics."
All who heard the remark smiled.
De Vane entered into conversation with Godolphin, and
inquired if it was his purpose to make an extended tour
through the United States.
" I think not," he replied. "I should be pleased to visit
your great West; but I have been so long absent from
England, that I shall return early in the spring. I wish
in the mean while to pass some time in Washington, where
some of my countrymen-are sojourning."
" I should be pleased to show you any thing here which
may interest you during your stay," said De Vane.
"You are very good," replied Mr. Godolphin. "I am
charmed with the place. It quite surpasses my expectations, though it had been described to me in glowing terms
by.friends who reside here."
Waring came forward, and said: "We shall be happy
to see you, Mr. Godolphin, at the College, during your stay
here. We have a library which may interest you; for,
while it is not very extensive, it is well selected.
" Thank you," he replied. " It will, I'm sure, afford me
great pleasure to visit the College. You must allow me
to say that it is well represented here to-day."
Waring bowed.
The next morning, cards of invitation came, both to




DE VANE.                   467
Waring and to De Vane, from Chancellor De Lolme, inviting them to dinner on the following day. It was the
first time that Waring had been honored with an invitation
to that house, and De Vane was delighted; for it was a
tribute to him, as a man, from a very exclusive and aristocratic quarter, and it was the most satisfactory proof
of the decided impression which his conversation on the
previous day had made on the brilliant circle assembled at
Mr. Clarendon's table. De Vane-felt that Waring's social
position was now perfectly well settled, and that from this
time forth all the consideration would be extended to him
which his preeminent abilities and noble qualities so richly
merited.
Eager to learn what Miss Godolphin's impressions were,
since the return of her cousin, De Vane walked to Leasowes about twelve o'clock, when he knew he should find
Esther released from her morning's engagement with her
little charge. Entering the gate, he was advancing upon
one of the winding walks leading to the house, when he
saw both Miss Godolphin and Esther engaged in earnest
conversation, walking in one of the paths which conducted
to the gate by a still wider circuit. They had not seen
him, and hurriedly retracing his steps, he emerged from
the grounds, and passed on to the town. He congratulated
himself at not having met Miss Godolphin under circumstances so embarrassing, and he was now confident that he
should be able to learn from Esther what he so much desired to know; for his interest in Waring was too deep to
suffer him to wait inactively while the crisis of his fate
developed itself. He resolved to call on Esther in the
evening, and after a full conversation with her, to contribute what he might to protect his friend from any unnecessary pain, or, if possible, to advance his hopes.
In the evening, he called at Mr. Springfield's, and asked
for Miss Wordsworth. He was shown into the drawing



468                  DE VANE.
room, and after some little time Esther entered. She was
radiant, and De Vane felt that she had good tidings for
him. He rose to meet her, and she welcomed him with her
brightest smile.
"If I should ask you, Esther, in the beautiful language
of the Scriptures,' What of the night?' what would be
your reply?"
"I should answer," she said, "in the same language:'The morning cometh, and also the night.'"
"I must beg you to interpret for me," said De Vane;
"for I really do not comprehend the language, couched as
it is in such a figure. JDo you mean that Waring's sky is
to be visited with the morning light, after such a weary
night of doubt and watching, and that then a still darker
and longer night is to close in upon it?"
" Ah! Mr. De Vane," said Esther playfully, " you must
study the Scriptures. You appealed to me by quoting the
language of the sublime prophet, and I could do no less
than answer in his own words."
" But really," said De Vane, "I am compelled to confess
that I do not understand the beautiful but mysterious language of the prophet. Will you not condescend to enlighten me?"
" Upon the hope that I indulge, that you will look more
diligently into the inspired volume, whose authority you
seemed to invoke by appealing to it, I will give you the
interpretation which is, I believe, generally accepted. It
is understood that two captive nations appealed to the
prophet, as a watchman, for some sign of hope, some appearance of coming deliverance; and he replied to their
question,' Watchman, what of the night?' in these words,'The morning cometh, and also the night;' meaning that
morning was about to dawn upon the one people, and a
protracted night to settle down upon the other: the one




DE VANE                    469
nation was presently to be delivered, while the other was
to undergo a long captivity."
" Thank you," said De Vane. " I ani, then, to understand
that morning is about to dawn upon our friend, and that
the other is still to endure the darkness which has so long
covered his sky?"
" Such is my interpretation of the signs," said Esther.
"Of one thing I am quite sure, there has been no change
in the sentiments of Miss Godolphin, so far as her cousin
is concerned. That Iam at liberty to say to you. As to
the hopes of our friend, I, of course, can not speak; for not
a word has ever been uttered in regard to him that would
authorize me to form any opinion. I had this morning a
conversation with Hortensia. She came to me at Leasowes,
and communicated every thing. Mr. Godolphin renewed
the offer of his hand, and she decidedly declined it. He
assured her of his unchanging love, and urged her to withhold her final decision until his return to England, and
then to write him. She explained to him every thing-her
wretchedness at the thought of his having fallen in battle,
her joy at the tidings of his return to England, her deep
sense of his constancy, and her sincere friendship; but she
assured him it was impossible that she could. ever regard
him if any other light than that of an honored friend and
relative; and she implored him to conquer a. passion which
she insisted was only a fancy, which a year's residence in
society such as he would meet in London, would easily
overcome. He prevailed on her to give him the opportunity of proving his constancy by awaiting his return home,
that he might assure her, from the very midst of the most
brilliant circle of his own country, that he could love no
woman but herself. And so the affair rests."
"I pity him from the very depths of my heart," said
De Vane. "He is a noble fellow, and such constancy I
have rarely known. It is wonderful. He had known his




470                   DE VANE.
cousin but a short time in Europe; he was very young
when he saw her-indeed, is still young; and yet now,
after years of absence and suffering have tried his love,
it is as ardent as at first."
Esther was touched by this generous tribute to one who
was striving to bear away from them one so loved and
prized as Miss Godolphin, and whose success would shed
disastrous eclipse over the life of one so dear to him who
uttered it, as she knew Waring to be-dear as an elder
brother, upon whom no shadow could fall without clouding his own happiness.
"Do you know, Miss Wordsworth," said De Vane,
rising, and speaking in a stately way, "that I committed
a trespass this morning, for which I have yet to ask your
pardon?"
"A trespass!" exclaimed Esther. "I am not conscious
of it."
"Still I must sue for pardon," said De Vane. "At an
hour when you were in the full possession of your prerogative as mistress of Leasowes, and before you had emerged
from the sanctity whicl invests you there, and repels intruders, except on holidays, I actually entered your domain, and was advancing upon your seat of empire, when
I saw you walking with a fair lady; and conscious of the
intrusion, I retraced my steps without making myself
known to you."
"Were you at Leasowes this morning?" Esther asked
eagerly.
"I must confess it," said De Vane; " and seeing Miss
Godolphin in conversation with you, I withdrew."
She laughed, and said: "It was very well that you did
not join us, for at that moment Hortensia was speaking.
to me with great earnestness, and your presence would
have distressed her."
"So I conjectured," said De Vane; " and like an illus



DE VANE.                   471
trious personage whom Milton describes, I fled from the
sight of happiness which I was not to share."
Esther laughed heartily, and De Vane took leave with
a heart full of joy, and love, and hope.




CHAPTER XIV.
"WHY in this furnace is my spirit proved
Like steel in tempering fire? Because I loved I
Because I loved what not to love, and see,
Was more or lets than mortal, and than me."
THE LAMENT OF TASSO.
IT is a beautiful compensation in human life, that when
we feel and toil for others, the pressure of our own sorrows is lighter; the soul receives strength from sympathy, and by a beneficent law of humanity, we grow strong
as we strive to do good.
De Vane's solicitude for Waring was so great, that he
almost forgot his own troubles; and he awaited calmly,
for a time, a reply to letters which he had recently written, both to Mrs. De Vane and to General De Vane, expressing in earnest terms his love for Miss Wordsworth,
and his resolution to be loyal to his own heart, no matter
what opposition he might encounter.  He described her
to his father in manly but glowing terms, and he expressed
his perfect indifference to any advantages which he might
acquire by a marriage such as General De Vane projected
for him.  Nor could he restrain the utterance of his profound indignation against those rules of conventional life,
which would exclude a person, however cultivated, refined,
pure, and lovely she might be, from the circles which they
governed.  In the mean while, he saw Esther constantly,
and their intercourse yielded the purest enjoyment. Books,
conversation, music, excursions to the neighboring coun(472)




DE VANE.                   473
try, wherever objects of interest attracted them, and a
thorough cooperation in doing good to those who needed
their kindly offices-all gave a charm to the flying days.
Their relations had undergone no change since the explanation which took place at the little fountain in the
grounds of Leasowes.  Esther was firm, and De Vane
never for a moment swerved from his attachment or his
purpose.  They saw much of society, and Esther was
greatly admired. Mr. Le Grande was marked in his attentions to her, expressing without reserve his appreciation of her beauty, her intellect, and her character; and
others, still younger, and more disposed to possess what
they so extravagantly admired, pressed their attentions
upon her. But, with a gentle dignity, she kept within a
charmed circle, which she did not suffer any one to overstep. Her bearing was such as to repress the language of
passion, and without giving offense, she, in every instance,
prevented an actual appeal to her decision, by making it
plain that a declaration of love would be unacceptable.
Mr. Clarendon said to her one evening:
" Miss Wordsworth, with your glorious beauty, and all
your attractions, you are like the sibyl repelling Apollo
himself, who pressed her with all the ardor of the god;
and you still exclaim to the great throng of your admirers:'  profani, procul, procul este!'"
DeVane, who was standing near, smiled as he saw Esther's eyes turn quickly toward him, but he said nothing.
The dinner at Chancellor De Lolme's brought together
mainly the same guests who met at Mr. Clarendon's table, and it was an entertainment of marked elegance.
The conversation turned on politics, and De Vane was
drawn out by Mr. Clarendon in a way to make him the
observed of some two or three gentlemen of distinction,
whom he met for the first time. Waring and Mr. Le
Grande did not renew their discussion, but Chancellor De




474                   DE VANE.
Lolme paid marked attention to the young Professor, and
conversed with him for some time on a subject which
deeply interested them both-the relations between ethical and political philosophy.  From that time Waring
became a frequent guest at the Chancellor's elegant and
hospitable house.
Some days after, cards were issued for an evening party
at Mrs. Habersham's, and it proved to be unusually brilliant. Eminent men from all parts of the State were present, and the families of several from the sea-board accompanied them. The handsome house, with its elegant furniture, afforded ample room  and abounding means for
such an entertainment. Natural flowers shed a perfume
through the spacious saloons; and statuary and paintings
imparted that indescribable grace which nothing can supply in their absence. There was no dancing. There never
was at Mrs. Habersham's. Her own taste and that of Miss
Godolphin's agreed in excluding it. But musical instruments of the rarest and most costly kind were placed in
the drawing-room this evening, the harp alone occupying
its accustomed place in the octagonal green room. One
or two eminent professors of music were present, whose
skill was so well known, that their performance alone
would have attracted numbers to hear them. Esther was
standing near the door, opening into the octagonal room,
in conversation with Mr. Le Grande, when Mr. Clarendon
advanced, Mr. Godolphin leaning on his arm, and said:
"I wish, Mliss Wordsworth, to present Mr. Godolphin."
Mr. Godolphin bowed low, and said:
"I have for some time desired the honor of meeting you.
You are not unknown to me, Miss Wordsworth."
Esther bowed, and a conversation followed, in which
she took part, with Mr. Godolphin, Mr. Le Grande, and
Mr. Clarendon. Various topics were introduced, among
others the costume of the people of Europe, as compared




DE VANE.                     475
with that of Oriental nations, and this led to some remarks as to the effect of civilization upon the fine arts.
At that moment, Miss Godolphin came up to the group,
and invited Esther to give them at least one song, saying,
that it was the wish of those present, many of whom had
never heard her, to have that gratification afforded them
this evening.  Mr. Godolphin offered his arm, and conducted her to the piano, at which she seated herself with
apparent composure, but really under the influence of
great embarrassment. The presence of so large a company,
some of them total strangers to her, and the fact that the'
entertainment was intended to owe its chief interest to
the music of the evening, awakened natural apprehension
in one so full of sensibility.  With perfect grace, she
touched the keys of the instrument, playing first a wild
exuberant piece, perfectly new to almost every one, and
in which the music seemed to exert its full power in uttering the voice not of mirth, but of deep and earnest
gladness; now rapid, and again slow and tender, with a
joyous outburst finally, which was so exultant that it
moved many to tears, from pure sympathy with its almost
human passionateness.
The room rang with applause, and Mr..Godolphin, bending low, th-anked her in the warmest terms.
"And now," said Miss Godolphin, " we must have the
song?"
"What shall it be?" asked Esther.
"We leave the selection to yourself," she replied; "but,
if perfectly agreeable to you, I should wish you to sing
Judith.'
This was a new piece, almost unknown as yet in this
country, describing Judith's solemn consecration of herself
to the perilous task of delivering her country from the Assyrian hosts that stretched their beleaguering lines around
the city where she dwelt, who trusted in shield and spear,




476                   DE VANE.
and bow and sling, and knew not the Lord that breaketh
the battles, in which she prays that their stateliness may
be broken down by the hand of a woman. It was a piece
of wonderful power, music and language conspiring to
produce the greatest effect; and it was a piece of considerable length. Esther took the fresh sheets of music
lying near, and placed them before her. Her style of dress
was in harmony with the piece which she was about to
play, for it was unusually rich this evening. Her golden
hair was intertwined with pearls, and her faultless neck
was encircled with a necklace, of exquisite workmanship,
of the same precious material, from which hung a cross,
formed of the largest and purest pearls, of very great
value-an ornament which had been her mother's, and
which she rarely wore. Her robe was white silk, trimmed
heavily with the finest lace.
She was roused by her own music, as she advanced in
the piece, and her voice gave out all its power as she uttered the sentiments, so heroic, so devoted, and so sublime,
that the whole scene of the beleaguered city, and the surrounding heights covered with the tents and streaming
with the defiant banners of the haughty Assyrians, came
up to view, while the soaring spirit of the glorious woman
preparing to go forth to spoil the pride of the fierce leader
of the mighty host, broke forth in tones so grand, and of
such imperial triumph, that all who heard them felt as if
they stood in the presence of some being already inspired
with authentic power, to proclaim the deliverance of her
country, anid the utter rout and destruction of her enemies.
As the closing notes died sway, and Esther's hands fell
from the instrument gently, the enthusiasm of the company was such, that it did not seek to restrain itself, but
everywhere exclamations of rapture were heard, which
betrayed the power that the wonderful music which had
just ceased, had swayed over their souls.




DE VANE.                    477
Esther rose from  her seat, and again Mr. Godolphin,
offering his arm, conducted her to a seat. Mr. Clarendon
and Waring came directly to her, and tendered their
thanks, and a monlent after De Vane joined them.
"It occurs to me," said Mr. Clarendon, "that in a conversation in which some of us took part, some months
since, when the comparative power of the fine arts, and of
language in expression, was discussed, we overlooked
music; and really I am not prepared to say, after what I
have just heard, that it-does not transcendevery thing, in
the utterance of the higher emotions of our nature, and in
swaying the soul."
"Ah! but you must consider," said De Vane, " that we
have just now heard music associated with language, and
it goes far toward confirming my theory, which claims the
ascendency of human speech over the fine arts in the
power of expression, to observe the effect produced by the
piece of music to which we have just listened; for what
is music, after all, but speech in its passionate tones?"
" Very cleverly stated," said Mr. Clarendon. "But you
claim rather more than I can concede, when you class
music with language. The truth is, music is one of the
fine arts."
"Quite true," said Waring; "and even when we listen
to music unaccompanied by language, we are often profoundly moved by it; as in the M2iserere, for instance, when
the human voice can not be distinguished, and the tones
float upon the air, the effect is described as very great."
"So it is," said Miss Godolphin, "for I have heard it
just as you describe it; and it was wonderful how one
felt it."
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon, "I perfectly well recall it."
At this moment Miss Godolphin came up, leaning on
Mr. Le Grande's arm.
"We are reopening our discussion, Miss Godolphin,"




478                   DE VANE.
said De V'ane, "as to the comparative power of language
and of the fine arts to affect us, and Mr. Clarendon has
appealed to the impression made by music as an art. Now
is that allowable?"
"Why not?" she said.
"Because," replied De Vane, " it consists of sounds, and
language is made up of sounds, so that music is kindred
to it."
"Ah! Mr. De Vane," said Miss Godolphin, "you remember that the controversy, as it stood before, was not as
to the power of uttered language to move us, but as to
the capability of its descriptions-its capability of bringing to view scenes and ideas which, when realized, would
affect us. And it seems to me that you vary the ground
of our discussion when you add vocal sounds, which appeal to us in quite a different way."
" Very fairly done," said Mr. Clarendon. " Do you not
think so, Le Grande?"
" I must be allowed to say, while I admire the skill and
dialectic power of Miss Godolphin's remark," said Mr. Le
Grande, "that in testing the power of language in its relations to thought and emotion, it is quite proper to take
into the estimate the highest forms which it wears. Eloquence, for instance, is not dependent only upon a collocation of words, but the tones of the human voice must enter
largely into it. And if this be true, music partakes in
some sort of the nature of speech."
" Still," said Mr. Clarendon, "that varies the original
inquiry, started some time since, as to the capability of
statuary or painting to move us, and of the comparative
power of verbal description to do so, when representing the
same object. And I remember that one ofthe illustrations
offered was the Dying Gladiator-the work of art appealing to us by its mute suggestions-and Lord Byron's descriptive lines, in which he introduces the rude hut on the




DE VANE.                   479
Danube, the boys at play, and the unconscious Dacian
mother. Now, vocal utterances are not to be taken into
the account in such an inquiry. Is it not so, Miss Wordsworth, for I believe you sat arbitress then?"
Esther smiled, and said: "I think you are right, Mr.
Clarendon."
"The truth is," said Mr. Clarendon, laying his hand on
De Vane's shoulder, "this young gentleman, seeing the
complete ascendency of music established this evening,
wishes to press it into the support of his theory; and I
confess the same anxiety to rank it as one of the fine arts."
All laughed.
" The power of music to affect us," said Mr. Le Grande,
"is nothing less than wonderful. *The ancients have attested it in the fable of Orpheus moving beasts and woods,
and all nations employ martial music to animate their soldiers in preparing for battle."
" There is a remarkable instance of the power of music
over human passion," said Waring, " in tie. case of King
Saul, whose wild and stormy soul could only be soothed
by the harp of David, who, while yet young, swept the
chords of that instrument in the presence of the monarch
who at the same time hated and dreaded him, and yet was
swayed by the notes that he produced."
"It is a most felicitous illustration," said Mr. Le Grande.
"I confess my own susceptibility to the influence of
music," said De Vane. "It subdues or rouses me as nothing else can. Its descriptive power, too, is almost unlimited. In that very piece which we all heard with so much
emotion just now, it was easy to trace the varying sentiment in the notes, as they rose, or sank, or wailed,. or denounced, or triumphed, without observing the words in
which the sentiment was expressed. I do not wonder at
the effect produced by the Marseillaise. I never hear its
notes, even upon' a feeble instrument, without instantly




480                   DE VANE.
calling before me Paris-its streets filled with armed men,
torches borne by women, who join the chorus-of the wild
song as the deeper voices of the maddened populace shout
it out, and the frantic drums rattle it forth to animate the
tread of the fierce band, a band in which both sexes mingle
and all ages are seen, from the boy of twelve to the grayhaired octogenarian. That hymn would bring an empire
toppling down."
De Vane had unconsciously, in his animation, uttered
this with amazing power, and his language, attitude, and
gesture were all so striking, that the group about him regarded him with unconcealed admiration. Mr. Le Grande
fixed his eyes upon him, and said:
"Mr. De Vane has just given us a great argument in
support of his theory-the transcendent power of language to represent scenes which are not before us."
His face flushed with pleasure, and he bowed. Esther's
face beamed as brightly as his own.
"It is to be observed, too, I think, Mr. Godolphin,"
said Mr. Clarendon, "that the national anthem of England
breathes the majestic breadth and strength of her imperial
sway. One who hears it can imagine the circling hours
of the day never ceasing to light the wide extent of her
realm."
"I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure," said Mr.
Godolphin. "We are loyal people, and we love our national anthem."
"We have none," said Mr. Le Grande.
"Will not Miss Godolphin give us some music now?"
said Waring. "I am sure that we shall all be happy to
hear her."
"You should excuse me this evening, I think," she replied. " Do you not say so, Mr. Clarendon?'
"My dear lady," said he, "you should not appeal to me,




DE VANE.                   481
when the question respects your being excused from singing. I am incapable of impartial justice in that matter."
Waring gave her his arm, and conducted her to the
octagonal room, as a wish was expressed to hear her performance on the harp; and she seated herself by the instrument, and threw her fingers over its chords so as to produce
instantly low, sweet tones, as if its spirit, sleeping before,
became conscious now of the hand of an enchantress which
woke it to life and tenderness. Gentle, almost wailing
notes breathed forth, until, rising into higher tones, the
music swelled into louder and grander circles, which filled
the hearers with delight. It was as if the early morning
of spring, dewy, and cheered by the song of a single bird,
expanded into light and glory, until it became vocal with
the glad caroling of a forest of songsters.
It was the remark everywhere throughout the thronged
and rapt audience, that it was not conceivable such music
could be produced from the harp, and the professors who
stood near her could not repress their surprise at such a
triumph in one of the most difficult instruments belonging
to their art-an instrument upon which many perform, and
over which they acquire some skill, but which the fewest
number ever master so far as to make it yield those fluent
tones which fill the soul with their ravishing melody.
Some one requested a song, and she said: "I will give
you one that is destined, I think, to immortality. It is
true at once to nature and to the heart."
Touching the strings again, she made them vocal under
her fingers, and sang those lines of Moore, which breathe
sentiments as pure as they are tender,
"'Tis the last rose of summer;"
and the depth, and richness, and passionateness of her
voice entered every soul. Tears flowed freely while she
21




482                   DE VANE.
sang; and as the dying cadence of her tones was mingled
with the exquisite sweetness of the air, which seemed to
linger over the chords like the breath of an angel, the
large drops rolled down the cheeks of Mr. Clarendon, attesting the power of her music over his noble, grand, and
yet gentle nature. When she had withdrawn her hand
from the instrument, he advanced to her, took her hand in
his, and said:
"You are right, dear lady; that song can never die, so
long as nature reproduces her flowers, or human hearts
cherish loved objects on earth."
It was painful to De Vane to observe the emotion of
Hubert Godolphin. He was very manly, and yet he could
hardly restrain the tears which welled up- into his eyes.
His agitation was so great, that he turned away, and walked
to another room, that he might conquer it. Mliss Godolphin was brilliantly beautiful this evening. The shadow
that had so long dimmed the lustre of her extraordinary
charms had passed away, and she was as resplendent as a
tropical morning, when the glories of nature are illumined
by a light undimmed by mists. Her dress was in harmony with her rejoicing spirit-rich, and adorned with all
the appliances which a liberal but pure taste could bestow
upon it. She wore no curls, but the diamonds flashed in
her richly-braided hair, and a necklace, precious enough to
ransom a queen from captivity, encircled her throat; while
a dark green silk robe, trimmed with Brussels lace, displayed her form in all the stately and yet graceful elegance which so preeminently distinguished her.
It was proposed that the two ladies who had so gratified the guests by their performance, should contribute
their voices in addition to the instrumental music which
the two eminent professors were about to execute; and
they took their places near the piano. The piece selected
was from the'Creation;' and one of the artists took his




DE VANE.                   483
seat at the piano, while the other accompanied him on the
violin; and Miss Goclolphin and Esther, together with the
professional performers, sustained the several parts of the
piece. The effect was very great; and as the last notes
of the instrument, under the vigorous touch of the German professor, died away, an outburst of applause broke
forth from the delighted company, Mr. Godolphin and
Mr. Clarendon shouting" Bravo! bravo 1" vehemently.
" Mehercule!" said De Vane, turning to Waring. " Statuary, and painting, and language must look to their laurels
if they compete with music in the power of expression."
Waring laughed, an a advancing to the ladies, thanked
them warmly for their music.
"Let us go to supper," said Miss Godolphin. "Mr.
Godolphin, will- you take Mrs. Habersham to the table?"
He bowed, and advancing to that lady, offered his arm.
Waring conducted Miss Godolphin, and De Vane took
Esther to the table. It was a magnificent entertainment,
such as Mrs. Habersham's great wealth and Miss Godolphin's fine taste could supply; and it was intended as a
compliment to one who had strong claims upon their consideration, and who had been accustomed to the most
profuse elegance at home.
Not until a late hour did the guests depart, and every
one bore away an impression of rare splendor and elegance-an evening to be remembered for its brightness;
for the grace and intellect and gladness which characterized all its festivities.
Some few days after, Hubert Godolphin took leave of
his cousin, and returned to Washington, to join a party of
his friends, who had come over with him to visit the great
Republic.
Letters came to De Vane-a very long one from his
aunt and a pretty full one from his father. Mrs. De Vane
urged him to yield to his father's wishes-to consent to




484.                 DE VANE.
quit his present residence, at least for a time, and to satisfy
the exactions of General De Vane, by proving that his
love for Esther was not the result of mere intercourse
with her,'but a true and vigorous sentiment, which could
survive through time and absence. She did not know that
General De Vane had himself written to his son, and she
therefore entered fully into all the reasoning by which the
counsels of that gentleman were animated.
General De Vane's letter was direct, and yet kind. Its
tone may be learned from a passage taken from it, in which
he treated the question of his son's wishes in regard to
Miss Wordsworth:
" I am not- insensible to the strength of the sentiment
which you profess to feel for Miss Wordsworth. I have
outlived my youth, but not my heart; and my views in
regard to you, while they may have been ambitious, have
never been selfish.  While I ardently desire that you
should marry a woman of your own class, (I do not mean
to depreciate Miss Wordsworth, who, I do not doubt, is a
very worthy young. person,) I do not wish you to marry
one whom you could neither love nor respect. The fact.
that the young person to whom you are just now so much
attached is a friend and associate of Miss Godolphin, certainly speaks much in her favor, and she could not have
the approval of Mr. Clarendon if she did not possess considerable merit. Still, she is of a people not just of our
own class; and I should somewhat fear, that hereafter
your tastes might be offended by the persons who would
surround her. There are very good people of her persuasion-the Hamiltons, for instance-but they are rare, and
there is always a certain clinging to each other, it seems
to me, which might seriously offend you, when, hereafter,
you come to look at things'in a dry light,' as my Lord
Bacon says. Still; I hold that every man has the right to




DE VANE.                   485
choose the woman who is to walk by his side through life;
and if you are content to subject your regard for Miss
Wordsworth to a fair test, I shall waive all objection on
my part to your marriage. Go to Europe in the spring,
and travel there a year or two; and if, when you return,
your sentiments are unchanged, I shall then respect your
wishes, and offer no obstacle to their accomplishment.
" Mr. Randolph was here yesterday, on his way to Washington, and asked after you with interest. He is in high
spirits, and says that he feels all the ardor of a fox-hunter
intent upon being in at the death. He means to see the
present administration out."
De Vane read his father's letter with mingled emotions.
There was light in it, but it was remote. Time, distance,
the ocean-all these rolled between him and Esther by the
plan submitted to him, and, in the ardor of his nature, it
seemed a vista as long as that through which Jacob saw
Rachel, was opening before him. He felt a profound respect for his father; he knew the terrible strength of his
ideas of caste. His tastes were not only aristocratic, but
his sentiments were such. The whole structure of his character was exclusive; and yet he actually had brought himself to yield to the alliance, which at one time he so utterly
opposed, provided it should be consummated after subjecting the parties who were to enter into it to an ordeal of
time and absence. He read and re-read the letters; revolved every idea which they contained; and the deep and
silent hours of midnight found him walking in his chalmber, and looking in troubled anxiety over the dim, wide
sea which stretched before him, as he sought to read the
future.




CHAPTER XV.
" LOVE took up the glass of time, and turned it in his glowing hands;
Every moment, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden sands.
"Love took up the harp of life, and smote on all the chords with might;
Smote the chord of self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight."
TENNYSON.
WHEN  we submit ourselves to an ordeal which is to
prove us worthy of a beloved object, there is a cheerful
courage which takes the place of anxiety.  Conscious of
our strength, we address ourselves to the tasks before us,
and glory in suffering or in doing whatever awaits us.
Love sheds over the objects about us its own glowing light,
and the days which fly by us are gilded with its hues. The
descending night, which comes to remind us that there is
one day less of doubt and trial, sends its harbinger of hope,
the star of evening, which glitters above the horizon, to
lure us fiom despondency.
De Vane had represented to Esther the state of his affairs, and she cheerfully acquiesced in the arrangement
proposed to test the strength and loyalty of the sentiments
which he avowed.  Now that General De Vane had yielcded his objections to her personally, and required only that
he might be satisfied of the strength of his son's attachment, she could not withhold her own assent to a plan
which was to demonstrate it.  Heretofore she had firmly
refused to enter into any engagement with De Vane, and
now she would do no more than encourage him to believe
that, when his father's objections were removed, she would
(486)




DE VANE.                    487
be ready to show her own appreciation of a regard so true
and enduring. De Vane himself began to view their relatidns under brighter lights, and while the intervening
months which must roll away before he could look upon
Esther as his own, by a positive promise from her own
lips that she would be his, seemed interminable; yet the
thought that when they were ended, all uncertainty would
have passed away with them, at length tranquillized if it
did not cheer him; and he bent himself to his studies with
redoubled energy, that he might be admitted to the bar
before his departure for Europe. His progress was very
great, and the only relaxation which he took from his intense study was a ride on horseback with Waring, or an
evening drive, when the cay was'so inviting as to make it
agreeable.
The weeks flew by rapidly. The winter was already
gone before he could comprehend that its reign was over,
and the signs of opening spring met his eye, as if by some
enchantment the leafless trees had caught the breathing
warmth of the tropics. It was arranged that he should
return to Virginia in May, and by the close of that month
sail from New-York for London. March was now almost
gone. In April, the court before which he was to be examined opened its session, and he was introduced to the
judges by Mr. Clarendon, as an applicant for license to
practice. His examination was perfectly satisfactory, and
he was admitted, with evident marks of consideration by
the judges, to the bar. Then followed a few weeks of delightful recreation. The circling hours were bright, and
in the society of Esther he enjoyed those exquisite pleasures which love and hope shed over youth-pleasures as
pure as they are perfect. The early spring flowers, the
deepening foliage, the songs of birds, the breath of nature
laden with the perfume of the early-blooming plants, the
sunsets kindling a glory in the western sky as deep and




488                   DE. VANE.
pure as if the opening portals of heaven shed there a
supernal light-all this, De Vane and Esther enjoyed as
we enjoy such scenes but once in life. As we advance
upon the path of existence and comprehend the ways of
the world; as we see so many illusions which cheered us in
our youth fade away, and as the actual engrosses so much
of time and lays its imperious claims upon our finest
faculties; as we become acquainted with sorrow and stand
in the presence of death, we feel that the sad strain which
sighed over the harp of a noble poet as he swept its chords
in exile and bitterness is but too true:
"The tree of knowledge is not that of life."
But De Vane and Esther were full of youth, and joy,
and hope. The light which flushed their foreheads awoke
their souls to gladness, as the earliest beams of the sun,
falling upon the statue of Memnon, made it vocal, and
called forth music to welcome the day.
Waring's sympathy with his friend was perfect. His
own spirit was refreshed; and as he saw the two young,
bright beings moving in the realm of love and hope, he
was accustomed to breathe a prayer that no cloud might
darken a sky so full of light and joy.
So far as his own hopes were involved, every thing was
uncertain. He had not breathed a word of love to Miss
Godolphin; he awaited her decision as to the addresses of
her cousin Hubert. Acting in perfect good faith, she withheld her final reply until he should reach England and
write to her; it was then her purpose to answer him in the
most formal and emphatic way. Waring saw her often,
sent her books to read, some of them intended to enlighten
her as to evangelical religion, and. they discussed the,
merits of these books, and kindred subjects, when they
met. Nor did he limit his reading, nor seek to restrict




DE VANE.                   489
hers, to this subject alone. History, criticism, poetry, and
general literature, all these engaged them, and Miss Godolphin learned to appreciate more and more the extraordinary mind and elevated character of a man who, consecrating himself solemnly to the work of the Christian
ministry, and exercising its functions among a people upon
whom the great world looked down with no patronizing
aspect, was yet so cultivated, so refined, so transcendently
superior to the self-appointed magnates of that class who
regarded Christianity as that circle did who, when the
fame of Jesus began to take hold of the heart of the people
of Judea, inquired: "Have any of the rulers, or of the
Pharisees, believed on him?"
The time came at length when De Vane was to take his
departure. But a few days remained before he must say
"Farewell!" for a time, to those who were so dear to him.
The quarterly meeting for the Methodist Church was about
to be held; and Waring, yielding to the earnest request
of the presiding elder, consented to preach on Sunday
night. De Vane was to leave on Tuesday, and that was
one of the.considerations which induced him,to consent to
preach at a time and in a place where there was so much
to embarrass him.
A very large congregation assembled to hear him. Persons of all denominations flocked to the Methodist church,
and filled its simple, plain seats. Mr. Clarendon attended
Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin, and Chancellor Hallam and several of the professors from the College were
present. The subject of Waring's discourse was from that
brief but noble Psalm, in which King David, after surveying the wide-spread heavens through which the moon
floated, and over which countless stars shed their light,
extols the glory of the Lord of the universe, and utters his
adoring wonder that, bending from all the splendors of
creation, he should be mindful of man, and exalt the son of
21*




490                   DE:VANE.
man to such dignity as to visit. him. IHe treated it with
the finest effect, exhibiting man, at the first view, as a
feeble being, the proudest and most heroic of the race subject to disease and death. He then presented him as an
intellectual being, achieving the highest triumphs in the
arts, in literature, in science-a being capable of comprekending the works of God, susceptible to the noblest emotions-love, gratitude, joy, adoration; who, while inanimate nature, in its sublimest forms and most brilliant aspects, could only reflect the majesty of the Maker, was
himself so organized that he could vie with angels and
archangels in swelling the pomp of worship which filled
heaven with its mighty anthems and bore to the farthest
verge of creation the sounding praise which made his excellent name, known throughout its amplest bounds. He
then described him as an immortal being-a being whose
very nature the Son of God had assumed; who, by his
triumph over our enemies, had exalted the form of humanity to that high seat which the redeemed and sanctified
should finally attain. And he proceeded to press, with
wonderful power, the thought that the life of such a being
ought to be consecrated to the noblest tasks and the
highest aims; that such a being, viewed in the revealing
light of divine truth, was too great for the little schemes
of worldliness or the most towering objects of human ambition; and that his whole'earthly existence should be in
harmony with the glory which was to be his inheritance,
when states and empires, and the world itself, had perished, and nothing stood but the objects which God had
made to endure forever. The sweep of Waring's thought
was broad and vigorous, and he bore those who heard
him on its majestic tide; so that when the sermon was
ended, the world and its proudest and most dazzling objects stood"dwarfed in the presence of the sublime scenery
which had just been brought to view. The effect was




DE VANE.                    491
very great, and De Vane experienced, at the same time,
the highest satisfaction at the glorious success of his friend
in preaching the Gospel, and a deep and awful sense of the
majesty of revealed truth. Never before had he so comprehended the relations of man to his higher destiny;
never had he been so profoundly conscious of the momentous issues which attend life; and long after, he recalled
the scene, the words, the thoughts of the preacher, and
uttered two lines of the closing hymn, lines written by
Montgomery:
"'Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die."
UTpon the rolling seas, and in distant lands, the vision
came back upon him; and he would stand and look up to
the deep, limitless heavens, spreading their constellations
above his head, as if they lighted the way to the throne of
God, and breathe a prayer that the great Being who dwelt
beyond those visible glories, would be mindful of him, and
lead him in the way of truth and life.
As the congregation dispersed, De Vane joined the
group, where Mr. Clarendon, Mrs. HIabersham, and Miss
Godolphin were standing near the door, waiting to speak
with Waring; but he had passed out of another door, and
walked with Mr. Springfield, who, with Mrs. Springfield
and Esther, had succeeded in making their way out of the
thronged avenue some moments earlier than others.
"Ah!" said Mr. Clarendon, "he has made his escape.
I really did wish to thank him. I feel that we all are indebted to him."
"So I think," said Chancellor Hallam.  "I confess myself under the greatest obligations to Professor Waring
for that discourse."
Miss Godolphin was silent, but her face was glowing.




492                   DE VANE.
She was full of animation, but she did not trust her heart
to express itself in words."
"And you are to leave us on Tuesday, Mr. De Vane?"
asked Mr. Clarendon.
"Yes," he replied. "I regret to say that I must.take
my departure so early."
"But I should think," said Mrs. Habersham, "that the
prospect of a visit to Europe would be very pleasing to
you."
" So it is, madam," replied De Vane; " but it can not
be an unalloyed pleasure, as I must leave my friends behind me."
Bidding them good-night, he walked to his lodgings,
and had a long conversation with Mrs. Bowen, who was
so full of joy, that she could not think of retiring to
rest, until she had expressed it to some one; and she
found a willing listener in De Vane, whose affection for
Waring was not less than her own.
While they were engaged in conversation, Waring
passed on to his room, and retired, without seeing De
Vane that night.
The next day, De Vane was busily engaged in co1mpleting his arrangements for his departure. He had purchased a large, handsome lot in that part of the town
which stretched between the public garden and the College, and he had already caused several out-buildings, including a stable for his horses, to be erected, thus settling
the question as to his residence so plainly, that no one
could doubt his purpose to make his home there. He left
every thing in charge of Waring, putting his horses and
servant fully at his disposal until his return; for he preferred to take public conveyances in traveling to Virginia.
There was something pleasing to De Vane in leaving these
objects behind him-in leaving something to remind his
friends that he was gone only on a visit, and that he would




DE VANE.                   493
return to resume the every-day life which he relinquished
only for a season. The very shrubbery, which began
already to grow luxuriously, and which was both rare
and beautiful-having been supplied through the kindness.of Mrs. Habersham, and the partiality of Mr. Swan, the
public gardener-imparted a home look to his place, and
helped to attach him to the spot.
Mr. Swan offered his services in looking after the place
during his absence, and it was often observed afterward,
that no garden in the town displayed more beauty than
De Vane's, even in his absence.
In the evening, Waring and De Vane took tea at Mrs.
Springfield's, where they met Mr. and Mrs. Clarendon, and
Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin, who were invited
to join them. It was very agreeable, both to De Vane
and Esther, to have pleasing associations connected with
the last evening which they were to pass with each other
previous to their long separation. It was better to part
cheerfully, than to take.leave of each other in sadness,
and doubt, and gloom. They were as yet but friendsfriends to be sure answering in their relation to each perfectly, that fine description of such a state in the felicitous
phrase of a noble poet: "Friendship between the sexes is
love full fledged, waiting for a fair day to fly." But still
they were only friends, and Esther shrank from an unwitnessed leave-taking.
The evening was very bright. The supper was a happy
one; all enjoyed it. Those who sat about the table were
kindred spirits, and the winged hours rustled lightly as
they flew over them. Conversation flowed freely. Mlr.
Clarendon excelled himself, and Mr. Springfield, who rivaled him in that delightful gift, was as genial as possible.
Music was not attempted'; it would have touched chords
too deep not to bring tears. In such hours we can not
enter the realm of song, without losing control of our sen



494                   DE VANE.
sibility; and when we begin to pause and listen to voices
which we may not hear again for many months, if ever,
the spirit of sadness spreads her mists over the soul, and
we abandon ourselves to her sway, yielding our homage
in passionate tears.  Music was not attempted.  The
strings of the magic interpreter of sentiment lay mute.
Waring and De Vane lingered a few moments after the
other guests had taken leave, and Mr. Springfield invited
them to join in the evening prayer, which he was accustomed to offer before the family retired to rest. He read
the eighty-fourth Psalm, which breathes a beautiful tribute to the peace and blessedness of'the courts of the Lord,
and declares with triumphant faith, " 0 Lord of hosts,
blessed is the man that trusteth in thee;" and kneeling,
he offered a fervent prayer, imploring the divine blessing
upon them all, and especially commending to the care of
Him who neither slumbers nor sleeps, the friend who was
about to leave them  for a season; entreating that he
might be kept from the dangers of the land and the perils
of the sea, and from whatever would harm soul or body,
until, brought once more to join in worship with them,
they might all mingle their praises as they bent again before the throne of grace.
As they rose from their knees, Esther's emotion was
such, that she could not repress the tears that, if she were
alone, would rain from her eyes; even now they glittered
upon the lashes, and one or two fell like dew-drops upon
the hand of De Vane, as she bent her head, while he said,
cheerfully: " Esther, farewell!" He shook the hand of
Mrs. Springfield tenderly and respectfully, grasped that of
Mr. Springfield with energy, as that gentleman uttered a
fervent " God bless you!" turned upon his steps, and was
gone.
Was he ever again to enter that house where he had
passed so many happy hours?  That belonged to the




DE VANE.                   495
future and the unknown. But as he walked away, with
Waring, under the star-lit heavens, it seemed to him that
the blessing which MIr. Springfield had implored for him,
filled the air, invisible but felt; as music floats in it, unseen but not voiceless.
The next morning saw him on his way to Virginia, and
again the dashing horses bore him swiftly away from a
spot the dearest to him in all the world.
After his departure, Esther devoted herself to her duties
at Leasowes with new activity.  She found it a great
resource, for occupation was essential to her; and the
consciousness of doing good to the little girls, whose eyes
welcomed her so brightly every morning, cheered her
indescribably.
Waring often called at Mr. Springfield's; and the interest which he felt in De Vane seemed to bring the absent
one nearer, as he spoke of him cheerfully and hopefully.
Some weeks after De Vane's departure, Waring came,
bringing a letter for Esther, which had been received
under cover to himself; and he at the same time stated
that he also had a very long one addressed to him. Both
were written in New-York, just previous to De Vane's
going on board the ship America, a splendid vessel, which
sailed regularly between that city and London. Esther
instantly retired to her own room to read the letter which
Waring handed her; and he remained in the library with
Mr. and Mrs. Springfield, giving them a full account of
his friend's movements and views.
It seems that De Vane had made but a brief stay in
Virginia, and had proceeded to New-York to make arrangements for his voyage. There he met Hubert Godolphin and his party of friends, who were to sail in the same
vessel with himself. Ie had found in this something to
cheer him; for he was to go abroad with one person at
least, who knew those who were so dear to him; and Mr.




496                   DE VANE.
Godolphin had expressed the greatest satisfaction upon
learning that De Vane was to go out in the same vessel.
The friends, too, who were with him, De Vane found to be
most agreeable people; among them, Sir Arthur Clifford
and family, who were related to the Guilfords, and who
had been making them a visit. The family consisted of
Sir Arthur and Lady Clifford, and two daughters, one of
them some twenty years of age, and the other about four
years younger. Their only son was at Oxford.
De. Vane's letter to Esther was very long. It described
every thing; and its last lines were written just as the
vessel was about to leave the wharf. A glowing farewell,
and a passionate assurance of changeless love, closed it.
It filled her with happiness; and kneeling in the stillness
of her own chamber, she offered a fervent prayer that the
wanderer might be kept by the tender mercies of Him
whose power overspreads the sea and the land, and be
brought back in safety to those who would watch for his
coming as they watch who wait for the morning light.
Descending to the library, she entered into conversation
with Waring, who read aloud parts of his letter-not
those which referred to herself, but his descriptions of
persons and places.
It was his first visit to New-York, and he was delighted
with the bounding activity and energy of the people;
with the signs of wealth which filled the streets; with the
shipping crowded at the wharves of the city, as if bringing from all parts of the globe tributes to its supremacy
in the world of commerce; with the magnificent bay,
opening, through gates grander than the Pillars of Hercules, into the wide sea; with the spirit of enterprise that
projected the extent of the metropolis in larger lines than
those which bounded the greatest cities of the Old World;
and with the stately ships, launched by its own men,
which already outstripped those of all other nations.




DE- VANE.                  497
These, then, he described, as they impressed his vigorous
mind; and he sketched, with power and ardor, the future
of a city which was seated upon the ocean, in such relations to a continent whose exhaustless resources were far
beyond the power of human calculation.
Mr. Springfield expressed his gratification at the views
exhibited by De Vane in his letter to Waring, and the
conversation turned upon the future of him who had gone
abroad to explore the great world.
"Mr. De Vane's powers of observation," said Mr. Springfield, " are extraordinary, and his mind will be greatly enriched by foreign travel.  He will profit more by one
year's residence in Europe than most persons of his age
would by five. He not only sees with quick perception
the objects about him worthy to be observed, but he looks
at them in a way to understand their value and their influence. I shall be exceedingly gratified, I am sure, to read
his letters written in the midst of the scenes which will
surround him for twelve months to come."
"Yes," said Waring, "he will be thoroughly educated
as to some subjects which interest him by the time he returns home. His will not be an idle tour; he will study
the institutions of the states of Europe closely. His tastes
are aristocratic, but his principles are not all so; and he
will see for himself the actual working of the political
systems, which require such an expenditure of money and
blood to maintain them."
"He will find himself most favorably introduced to
English circles, by going to London with Mr. Hubert
Godolphin," said Mr. Springfield.
" Of course he bears letters with him; but he might be
slow in presenting them. Mr. Godolphin will not suffer
him to avoid society."
"He will enjoy every advantage in that way," said
Waring.  "It is not his purpose, however, to remain




498                   DE VANE.
more than three months in England. He goes to the Continent, to pass some time in Paris, and he will spend the
winter in Italy. Classical in his tastes, he desires to spend
some time in Rome; and his plan is to return through
Germany to England in the following spring, so as to pass
a few weeks in London during the sitting of Parliament.
Since his late visit to Virginia, he has decided to return
to this country by the latter part of the summer of next
year."
"Indeed!" said Mrs. Springfield.  "He will, then, be
able to reach home-for his home is here-by October
twelvemonth."
" That is his plan," said Waring.
Esther looked a little conscious, as if she had been a].
ready enlightened upon that point; but she was silent.
"Italy is, just now," said Mr. Springfield, "a country
of very great interest. Her condition is, in every respect,
volcanic. The internal fires not only threaten to upheave
the land, but to flame up against the'political system
which crushes and degrades her."
" Yes," said WVaring, " the shock must come. The signs
of coming disturbances in France, too, are too clear to be
misunderstood. Two or three years will develop a popular outburst that will shake the reigning dynasty from the
height where the strong arm of united Europe has placed
it, if the storm is not subverted."
" So I think," said Mr. Springfield. " Mr. De Vane visits
Europe at a period of unusual interest.  I feel a very
strong inclination to go myself, but I must wait yet longer before I gratify that wish."
"It may be that I shall join you, when you complete
your arrangements for the tour," said Waring. " I should
wish to make it an extended one, passing into the East,
and visiting the scenes associated with the greatest events
in the history of our race."




DE VANE.                   499
"Let us keep it in view," said Mr. Springfield, " and we
may yet accomplish it."
The ladies smiled, and Mrs. Springfield said:
"Esther and I must be of the party. We should enjoy
it beyond expression."
"Of course," said Mr. Springfield, "we must take you
with us. Is there any other person, Mr. Waring, that you
would suggest, as necessary to complete the happiness of
the party?"
All laughed, and Mrs. Springfield said:
"It is hardly fair to call upon Mr. Waring so directly
to avow his preference for traveling companions."
"Oh! I was not inquiring about a companion for the
journey of life," said Mr. Springfield, " but only for a tour
through Europe and the East, though there is no saying
how that might terminate; for if Mr. Waring found a
lady friend agreeable upon such an excursion, he might be
disposed to invite her to tread the still longer road with
him."
At that instant the door-bell rang, and in a moment
afteri Miss Godolphin entered the room. All rose to receive her, and Waring was so embarrassed by the suddenness of her appearance in the midst of a conversation so
closely touching her, that Mlr. Springfield was very much
amused, and he said pleasantly:
"Ah! Miss Godolphin, it is said that the approach of an
angel inclines us to speak of tihe celestial being; and we
were just now saying to each other how happy we should
be to make the grand tour, if we could take with us certain friends; and we were upon the point of naming you
as you entered the room."
"Thank you, Mr. Springfield," she replied. "I should
be most happy to accompany you upon any journey that,you might propose, and especially to travel with you
through Europe and the East."




500                   DE VANE.
"Very well," said he; "that is settled. Hold yourself
in readiness. The time is not yet fixed, but the plan of
travel is fully mapped out."
"I am delighted to hear it," she said.
"But sit down," said Mr. Springfield, "and pass the
evening with us."
"Oh! thank you, no," she replied. "It is nearly sunset, and I ran in to ask Esther to drive with me to-morrow
morning to see a poor woman, who, Mrs. Gildersleeve
sends me word, is sick and needy.'"
"I shall certainly go with you," said Esther; "but you
must pass the evening with us. We will send a note- to
Mrs. Habersham, informing her that you are here."
"There is no resisting you," she said. "Let me write
the note, Esther."
Sitting down at Mr. Springfield's library-table, she wrote
a note to Mrs. Habersham, explaining her detention, and
dispatched it by a servant.
Then followed a gay conversation, in which the plan of
travel was fully discussed, and as definitely arranged, as
if it were to be undertaken the next week. She, too, had
received a letter from New-York, in which Mr. De Vane's
presence was named, and her cousin expressed the great
pleasure which it gave him to find that he was to be a
fellow-voyager across the Atlantic.  She spoke of this
with perfect naturalness, without the slightest embarrassment; and it was easy to see that she regarded Hubert
Godolphin only as a kinsman and a friend.
Rarely had Waring passed a happier evening. All
were bright; Mrs. Springfield and Esther feeling greatly
cheered by the letters from De Vane, and sympathizing
with Waring in his evident gratification at meeting Miss
Godolphin, and in hearing her speak thus of subjects which
interested him so profoundly.
Mr. Springfield was much brighter than usual, cheerful




DE VANE.                   501
as he was habitually; for he, too, was relieved by the
tidings which came from one whose fortunes seemed so
closely interwoven with those of a being so dear to him
as Esther.
Waring walked to Mrs. Habersham's with Miss Godolphin, and in taking leave of her, could not forbear thanking her for the pleasure which she had conferred on him
that evening, in consenting to stay, when she came only
to make a moment's call.
"I have been so much engaged," said he, "of late, that
I have not had the pleasure of meeting you so often as I
desired, and I count it a piece of good fortune to have been
able to enjoy your society this evening."
"Thank you," she replied.
It was further than Waring had ever gone before; and
Miss Godolphin's voice almost trembled as she uttered her
brief reply.
The "Good-night!" spoken and returned, was uttered in
tones, which revealed the truth of which neither was so
fully conscious before, that the dawn of a new creation
was kindling its glories over their souls.




CHAPTER XVI.
"DEAD and gone is the old world's Ideal,
The. old arts and old religion fled;
But I gladly live amid the Real,
And I seek a worthier Ideal.
Courage, brother, God is -overhead!"
ANONYMOUS.
THE summer came, spreading its verdure all over the
town.  Leasowes was in its full beauty, and Esther passed
most of her time there. She found in the duties which
engaged her there, more to cheer her than anywhere else.
There was an indefinable satisfaction in dwelling in the
midst of scenes which De Vane was familiar with; and the
consciousness of doing good to the little girls who were
left to encounter the perils of orphanage at so early an
age, yielded the richest compensation. It required but
little stretch of faith to believe that in the midst of those
shaded walks, angels trod, or spread their sheltering wings
around the little forms that dwelt there.  Waring had
now made it a rule to call every Saturday morning, and
make Esther a long visit, suggesting what he could to
guide or lighten her tasks, and conversing with her about
the past, the present, and the future.
It was Saturday.  He had not yet called, and Esther,
seated under the sheltering vines that ran over the front
piazza, was raising her head occasionally to look toward
the distant gate, when at length she saw him advancing
toward the house with rapid strides, and involuntarily
she rose to meet him.  As she walked toward him, he
(502)




DE VANE.                   503
held up letters in his right hand, and shook them gayly.
Her heart leaped within her; for she had not had a line
from De Vane since he sailed from New-York.  When
Waring approached near enough to be heard, he exclaimed:
" I congratulate you! Good tidings!"
The tumultuous blood rushed to her face; and as she
stood for a moment, awaiting Waring's coming, he felt
that he had never seen a brighter impersonation of joy,
and youth, and beauty.
" Here are letters, Miss Esther," he said. "They bring
good news from a far country. I waited this morning for
the mails to be opened before making my visit; for I felt
that I should receive something from our friend."
"Thank you," she said, earnestly, as he placed two
letters in her hand.
"It seems," said Waring, "that by some mischance our
letters have been detained. I have received two; one
written the very day after De Vane arrived in London,
and the other three weeks later, and yet they both reach
me by the same mail. But I am delighted to find that our
friend is not only well, but in all respects what we could
wish him to be. And now, I am not going to trespass
upon you. You must read your letters, and I will call
and see you this evening, when we can talk over every
thing."
"You are very good, Mr. Waring," said Esther. "I
shall be delighted to see you."
She gave him her hand, and bidding her " Good-morning!" he walked away.
Esther was touched by the delicacy of his conduct, for
she could not bear to look into her letters in his presence;
and, hurrying to the little fountain which threw its bright
spray over the summer flowers, she seated herself and
opened her treasures. When she rose to return to the




504                   DE VANE.
house, two hours had flown by, and Mrs. Green was wondering what she had found to detain her in the grounds
so long.
"Bless me!" she exclaimed, as she saw Esther, "I did
not know what had become of you. Jacob told me he had
not seen you, and I should have thought you had gone
home, but for your bonnet and parasol, which I saw lying
just where you placed them this morning."
"No," said Esther, "I have had letters, and have been
reading them at the fountain."
" I hope your friends are well, Miss Esther," said Mrs.
Green, using the plural number, though she had but one
person in her thoughts when she spoke.
"Oh! yes, thank you," said Esther. "My letters bring
good accounts."
She had scarcely seated herself, before Miss Godolphin
entered the house, who, running to Esther, embraced her
ardently. Her face was beaming.
"O Esther!" she exclaimed, "I have had letters from
England; and I now feel, for the first time for years, that
I am as full of joy as when a child."
They entered a small apartment, which Esther had furnished as a drawing-room, and seated themselves where
the summer air, breathing through the shrubbery, brought
refreshing coolness with it, and the fragrance of flowers.
Miss Godolphin then proceeded to relate to Esther, the
precise state of her correspondence with her cousin Hubert; her good faith in awaiting a letter from him after his
return to England; her reluctance to wound him, and her
distress at his persistence in a suit which she wished him
to see was hopeless. His promised letter had now reached
her, and it appealed to her once more earnestly to consult
her heart, and try to give him room to hope that she might
be able to reciprocate a sentiment which had glowed not
only with ardor, but which had burned steadily through




DE VANE.                     505
all discouragements till now; but that if she found it impossible to feel the interest in him which he so much desired, he would cease to trouble her with his importunities,
and beg only that he might be regarded as a friend, ready
always to serve her.
"You can not conceive, Esther," she added, "what a
sense of relief this letter brings to me. I shall now write
to my cousin as a friend, claim him as such, and strive to
hold my ascendency over his generous nature, in that relation; for his is truly a noble and generous spirit."
"Yes," said Esther.  "I do not doubt it. He must be
noble ancd generous. But I am almost as much relieved as
yourself; for, dear, dear Hortensia! I do not think that
you could ever love him; and the thought of giving one's
self away unlld a sense of gratitude, or of yielding to
importunity, is to. me simply dreadful. I should never
quit these shades, if such a fate awaited me."
"Of course," replied Miss Godolphin, "it is not to be
thought of: I have never loved my cousin, and it would
be impossible for me to yield to his wishes. This I shall
state to him  ag-ain, and this time so emphatically as to
make it final. Marriage! I shudder to think of it, where
any interior consideration induces the parties to enter into
it. Wealth, position, worldly advantages-these I scorn
beyond expression; and if I even loved Hubert, I should
almost shrink from yielding to my own inclination, lest
the splendid position which it would conduct to might in
some way seem to influence me. If I ever marry, it will
be because I prefer the man to whom I give my hand, to
any one on earth."
In her animation, she rose from her seat, and stood in
all the splendor of her beauty, her eyes flashing with the
light of her awakened soul.
" You will marry, Hortensia, I hope; and marry a man
whom you can love," said Esther, smiling.
22




506                     DE VANE.
Miss Godolphin's face flushed, as Esther fixed her eyes
upon her, and she said playfully: "Yes, let us hope, dear
Esther, that the fates may deal kindly with us. By the
way, my letters say that Mr. De Vane is greatly admired
in England.  He is overwhelmed with attentions.  Of
course, you have heard from him."
" Yes," said Esther.  " Mr. Waring brought me letters
this morning."
"Ah!" said Miss Godolphin; "and of course you are
very bright. Is he dazzled with the splendors about
him?"
" Far from it, far from it," she said.  "I-e is studying
the institutions of the country, and while he admires much
that he sees, he thinks that life is too artificial in the
higher circles, and that the pressure of the aristocratic
system upon the inferior class is too severe."
" I am delighted," said Miss Godolphin. "It is so like
him. He is not the man to be misled by false lights, but
I did not know how the social life of England might affect
him."
"You must come and pass the evening with us," said
Esther, "and we will discuss the whole subject."
"Very well," replied Miss Godolphin; "and now you
must take a seat with me, and let me set you down at
home."
" Is your carriage at the gate?" asked Esther.
"Yes," she said. "I drove."
"I will go with you with great pleasure," said Esther.
And, taking leave of Irs. Green and her little girls, she
walked with Aliss Godolphin to the carriage, and was
soon set down at Mr. Springfield's.
In the evening, Waring and Miss Godolphin both'came
to tea, and the topics which such parts of the letters as were
communicated suggested, were freely discussed. Waring's
letters from De Vane were very long, and, independent of




DE VANE.                     507
the personal interest which pervaded some of the paragraphs, which paragraphs were not read aloud, there were
views of public affairs, which engaged those who sat in
Mir. Springfield's library, in the most entertaining way.
The freshness and vigor with which De Vane described
what he saw, and the independent and manly tone in which
he expressed his opinions, not only imparted a great charm
to his letters, but awakened trains of thought that held
the friends grouped in delightful conversation for hours.'So," said Mr. Springfield, " our friend Mr. De Vane,
with all his aristocratic training and tastes, is not pleased
with the aspect of English social life. I must confess I
had supposed that he would be fascinated, for whatever
evils may exist, there must be refinement and culture."
" That is quite true," replied Waring, " but he has not
limited his observation simply to the results of their social
system, as they appear in the matured and ripened fruits
found in the mansions of the rich and the noble. He has
looked at the working of the system in humble life, in the
streets and lanes of the great metropolis, and in the
glimpse which he has caught of it by a brief visit to the
country, where there are fewer cases of casual suffering,
and where the effects of the order of society in its settled
arrangements may better be seen; and while he is charmed
with the culture and refinement of which you speak, he is
most painfully impressed with the terrible cost to the lower
orders, by which it is brought about and sustained. To
use his own expression:'It reminds one of the sparkling
wine pressed out of grapes whose vines are nourished by
human blood.' All the splendor of the social system can
not compensate for the destitution which it engenders;
and he adds:'Any people who can glory in wealth and
splendor, produced by a system which drains the lower
classes of even the common necessaries of life, are in great
danger, as Herod, who, clad in garments glistening like




508                    DE VANE.
silver, was smitten and eaten up of worms, because he
dared to assume what it belonged not to man to appropriate.' So that he is filled with admiration of the power
and glory of England, but he is utterly opposed to a system which confides the legislation of the empire to the
control of the very class who are to profit by giving it a
direction which shall work to their exclusive advantage."
" He would carry out, then, in the British empire," said
Mr. Springfield, " those free-trade ideas which he insists
will alone develop the power and glory of this country."
" Just so," said Waring. " He does not oppose a social
aristocracy, which holds its supremacy by its own inherent power to regulate the order of things about it, and
which maintains its ascendency by its'wealth, its culture,
and its proscriptive rights; but he thinks that the laws
of a country should leave open to every one the paths to
success; that they should be equal; and that they should
not put it in the power of one class, holding the soil in
undisputed possession, to legislate for their own advantage, and to shut out supplies for human comfort, and
even human life, while they revel in luxuries."
"And he is right!" exclaimed Miss Godolphin with
energy.
" So every one must say, I should think," said Mr.
Springfield. "The British government is a wise one, and
it is developing the national power and glory to a wonderful extent; but there must be some concessions made to
the working classes by the land-holders, or there will follow in its train social evils so great as to darken the
brightest pages of her history."
" My own sentiments," said Waring, "are settled. I
am not in any respect an admirer of aristocracy. I believe in man, as man, and all the conventionalism under
heaven can never impart any elevation to a soul that does
not derive its nobleness from something within. Nor




DE VANE.                       509
would I exclude from any position, political or social, a
man who was worthy to fill it, because of his humble
birth.  I, from  my heart, yes, from  its very depth, feel
with the Ayrshire plowman-poet:' A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his mightGuid faith he manna fa' that!
For a' that,'and a' that,
Their dignities, and a' that;
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher ranks than a' that.'"
He uttered the lines with extraordinary power.  Their
beauty and elevation were never before so appreciated by
those who heard them; and as he ceased to speak, Miss
Godolphin's eyes were fixed on him, while her whole face
expressed the highest admiration. Her lips parted, as if
she were about to speak, but she remained silent.
"Oh! how fully I agree with you, Mr. Waring!" said
Esther.  "What are we, to set hedges about us, to keep
away from us the poor? It is our privilege to associate
with us the good, the true, the refined, the really noble of
all classes, and we may limit our social life to such; but
surely it is our duty to endeavor to enlighten and elevate
even the lowliest."
" Just as our Lord," said Waring, " was welcomed to a
home with Martha and Mary and Lazarus, where he found
purity and goodness and refinement, after walking through
the day with the poor and the outcast, seeking to do them
good."
"I mean to say," said Esther, "that our friends and
associates we are at liberty to choose by our tastes and
our sympathies, but we must not disdain those who are
beneath us because we do not make companions of them."




510                     DE VANE.
That is just the thought," said Waring.    How many
there are that fail to see it! The truth is, we, as Methodists, are sometimes contemnel, because we embrace in our
Church so many of the poor and ignorant; just as if our
Lord had not, with special earnestness, directed the Gospel
to be preached to the poor."
"May it ever be our reproach and our glory!" said
Esther. "Is the light sullied because it streams into a
hovel, and lights up an abode of wretchedness?  Surely
the sunbeam that cheers the sick pauper on his pallet of
straw, is as pure as that which falls upon the marble corridors of a palace."
Her face, as she uttered these words, glowed with unusual ardor, and the beauty which swept her perfect features was as pure as if illumined by celestial light.  Tears
trembled on the eyelids of Miss Godolphin, who sat opposite to her; and in her own generous soul she felt, at that
moment, how transcendently superior Esther was to all
the mere artificial beings which the whole circle of society
could produce, if it searched through all its saloons, either
in this country, where a self-constituted aristocratic class
claimed superiority, or in Ehgland, where the ancestral
pride of generations sought to perpetuate distinctions by
the laws of the realm.  She knew that such women were
not limited to any class; that in the aristocratic circles of
England, where she had observed society, and in the corresponding circles of this country, true, noble, whole-souled
women were to be found~; women to be valued for their
own inherent qualities, and not for the accidental advantages of rank and wealth; and she knew, too, that such
women were not produced by those circles alone, but that
they existed in many families which made no aristocratic.
pretensions-households in the midst of which all the
pure, gentle, grand, and really elevated virtues flourished,
as plants of richest verdure and fairest flowers in their
natal soil.




DE VANE.                    511
The months flew by.  October, with its glories, was
making the woods even more beautiful than when they
awoke to new life under the breath of spring. The varying hues of the leaves-the bright-red dogwood, the crimson sweet-green, the yellow poplar, the rich evergreens,
the clinging vines, running to the very top of the tallest
trees-made a picture of rare beauty. The sunsets were
glorious; the western sky sometimes flamed with the
strong beams as they streamed over the hills, behind
which the glowing axle of the sun was already hid; and
at other times, the clouds which hung about the king of
day, mantling his departing moments with their trails of
splendor, were more gorgeous than imagination could conceive. The town, with its trees planted thickly, not only
on the sides of the streets, but down the centre of each,
except those in which business claimed their entire
breadth, was exhibiting its autumnal beauty. The public
garden and Leasowes were both giving signs of the decline of summer, and Mr. Swan and Jacob were busy
with the falling leaves, which the freshening breeze of the
cool mornings would scatter over beds and walks in their
respective domains.
Waring had again resumed his labprs at the College,
after his. summer vacation, and was deep in his studies.
Esther, too, was busy at Leasowes, her number of little
girls being as full as ever. She was in perfect health, and
her form was developing into that matchless combination
of robustness with grace so rarely seen in this country.
Mrs. Habersham and Miss Godolphin were yet at Clearbrook, lingering there to enjoy its autumnal beauties; and
it had been arranged that on Saturday morning Esther was
to make them a visit, attended by Waring. Letters were
looked for from De Vane. When he last wrote, he was in
Paris; but he was on the eve of starting' for Italy. By
this time he must have reached Rome, and his friends were




512                   DE VANE.
eager to know how the objects which would appeal to
him there might affect him. Still no letters came; and
when Waring called for Esther on Saturday, he was compelled to say that nothing had been heard of De Vane.
The visit to Clearbrook was a pleasant one. There was
every thing to make it attractive which wealth and taste
could bestow.
Mr. and Mrs. Springfield had been invited to come to
dine, and they reached there not long after the arrival of
Waring and Esther. Mlr. Springfield was a great favorite
with Miss Godolphin. She admired him for his intellect,
his learning, his religion, and his accomplishments. And
she often declared that it was no easy task to decide which
was the more attractive of the two, Mr. Clarendon or Mr.
Springfield. She never lost the opportunity of hearing
him preach, and she expressed her unbounded gratification
at the privilege of listening to one whose eloquence in the
pulpit rivaled that of Mr. Clarendon in the forum.
The day was delightful. And in the evening Mrs. tHabersham and Miss Godolphin returned with their guests to
the town. Their establishment was already prepared to
receive them, and they had desired to have their friends
with them the very last day that they passed at Clearbrook.
Several weeks passed by, and yet no letters came from
De Vane. All felt anxious about him.
One morning, Mr. Clarendon met Esther at the bookstore, and said to her: " What on earth has befallen De
Vane, Miss Wordsworth? Do any of his friends hear
from him?"
"I can not say, Mr. Clarendon," she replied. "I have
not heard of late of letters being received from him."
"Confound the fellow!" said Mr. Clarendon. "I suspect he is engaged in some conspiracy for liberating Italy,
and they have thrown him into one of their airy dungeons.
That fellow at Naples is just the man to do it."




DE VANE.                   513
Esther laughed, and said: "I certainly trust that no
such ill-fortune has befallen him."
Or can it be," said Mr. Clarendon, "that the Pope has
got hold of him, and is trying to make a Christian of
him by confining him in some convenient cell, where he
can read him a lecture occasionally upon the absurdity and
wickedness of his German transcendentalism?  Depend
upon it, the fellow has fallen into some such scrape, or he
would have written to his friends. He wrote to me from
Paris, but I had that letter two months ago."
While Mr. Clarendon was speaking, Mr. Le Grande
walked into the store, and came immediately to where
Esther was standing. Bowing very low and lifting his
hat, he said:
" I am very happy to meet you, Miss Wordsworth."
Esther thanked him, and inquired when he had arrived.
"But yesterday," he said. "I could not be here on
Monday, as I should have been, to witness the opening of
our session, being kept at home by engagements which I
could not put aside."
" I observed that you were not in your seat," said Esther.
" Thank you for taking the trouble to look," replied Mr.
Le Grande.
"Why, Le Grande," said Mr. Clarendon, "that we all
did. Could you imagine that your vacant seat would be
unobserved? Was not the statue of Brutus demanded in
the presence of all the thronged procession?"
"You are very good," said Mr. Le Grande. "I was to
ask after Mr. De Vane. Has he been heard from lately?"
"We were just speaking of him," said Mr. Clarendon.
"My last letter from him was received some two months
since, and I do not know what to say about his silence."
"He perhaps finds so much to engross him in observing
the objects of the old world, that he can not find leisure
22*




51 4                   DE VANE.
to put his sensations into words just yet," said Mr. Le
Grande.
"Wheri you and I were there, Le Grande," said Mr.
Clarendon, "we were not very good letter-writers, I believe. We dwelt in the presence of objects which filled
the imagination, and we could not quit them for the task
of coldly recording our sensations."
"Yes," said Mr. Le Grande; " and comprehending Mr.
De Vane, as I do, I can very well conceive his emotions in
visiting Rome, a spot where there is more to awaken thought
as to the comparative claims of the old world-I mean the
ancient, the classical world-and those of the modern, than
in any other place on earth. He is intensely republican,
and as intensely modern, much as he loves the classics;
and as he stands in view of the monuments of a past civilization, confronting the objects of the present age, as they
are seen there, he will be more than ever disposed to regard America as the field where the ideal and the actual,
combining their forces, will produce a higher and nobler
civilization than the race has ever yet attained."
"Yes," said Mr. Clarendon; " there is nothing of the
actual in Rome. The Eternal City stands upon the ashes
of its former glory, and the structures which the Church
has reared there seem like solemn temples erected to celebrate the memory of its past, with pompous and imposing
ceremonials. One monument yet stands, a fit memorial of
its ancient magnificence and colossal power-the Coliseum. What a conception it gives us of the grandeur of
the people who once dwelt there!"
"Every thing that one meets there," said Mr. Le Grande,
"is so suggestive, that we want leisure to compose our
thoughts. We must study our own ideas before we are
able to make them intelligible to others. It is impossible
to stand in the presence of the shattered civilization of an
empire, and observe its seats of power, without feeling




DE VANE.                   515
disposed to observe more closely and to study more profoundly the institutions about us. There can be no better
training for a statesman than to give him the opportunity
of observing the working of the political systems of modern Europe, and then place him in Rome, where he may
study the history of a colossal empire lying all about him
in ruins. He will comprehend what Bolingbroke means
when he says'that history is philosophy teaching by example.'"
"After all," said Mr. Clarendon, "we are working out
a grand problem in this country; but it is a problem not
yet solved."
Mr. Le Grande shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply. He said to Esther, however:
" And what do you say to that, Miss Wordsworth?"
" Oh!" she said, " I think that the affairs of nations are
ordered by One who will conduct them in the right way,
if the people acknowledge his right to rule. You know it
is written:' Blessed is that people whose God is the Lord.'"
Both the gentlemen bowed.
Mr. Le Grande took up a number of a Review which
had just been published, and asked Esther if she had yet
read it.
"Yes," she said; " and I think it promises to be preeminently successful. I have met with no Review which,
I think, approaches it in excellence. The State may well
be proud of it."
Mr. Le Grande was much gratified; for it'was understood
that he had contributed largely to its pages. After some
further conversation about books, Esther bowed to the
gentlemen, and was about to leave the store, when Mr.
Clarendon said:
" Miss Wordsworth, suffer me to attend you. You are
walking, are you not?"
Esther replied that she should be happy to be so attend



516                   DE VANE.
ed; and Mr. Clarendon saw her home, taking the opportunity of saying, on the way, that he was confident De
Vane was only waiting to put his ideas of Italy into a
satisfactory form before he wrote, and that there was not
the slightest occasion for uneasiness.
After he took leave, Esther felt grateful for his considerate kindness, and for the delicacy with which it was expressed; and she was cheered by the words of one who
felt, as she well knew, so true an interest both in De Vane
and herself.




CHAPTER XVII.
"AND hopes, and fears that kindle hope,
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subduedSubdued and cherished long!"
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE.
THE winter, which had been an unusually brilliant one,
was drawing toward its close. Miss Godolphin had given
to the social entertainments of the season a great charm.
The shadow which had somewhat obscured her brightness
had passed away, and her fascination was everywhere felt.
Tributes to her charms had been offered by more than one
gentleman, which might have flattered the pride of many
who moved in the circle which she adorned; but she heeded them not. Like some brilliant child of song at whose
feet bouquets are showered, but who disdains to stoop to
gather them, she passed on, as if unconscious of attracting
the admiration so lavishly bestowed.
Speculations were hazarded as to the cause of her indifference to the homage that was tendered her. As to Esther, she had so distinctly repelled all attentions which
transcended the formal lines of mere politeness, the impression made very generally was, that she must be engaged to De Vane, and that the high principle which was
known to govern her conduct in all things, made her discourage every thing which could lead any one to suppose
that she would receive any tribute tinged with sentiment.
But in the case of Mliss Godolphin, it was believed that no
(517)




518                    DE VANE.
such motive existed. She was frank, perfectly easy, gay,
but, it seemed, impressionless. Some pronounced her cold,
but yet every feature, every motion seemed informed with
soul.
Waring visited her frequently, but he had never even hintecl love. Every thing else was freely discussed by themliterature, the arts, religion, society; but of love they
never spoke. In many benevolent enterprises they assisted each other, and they often met at Mr. Springfield's,
where in delightful conversation their views were interchanged.
Returning on a very fine morning from  the College,
Waring walked into the public garden to observe some
plants of rare beauty which were beginning already to
feel the breath of the coming spring. An unusual number
of visitors had been attracted by the genial warmth of the
day, and as he stood observing the groups scattered over
the grounds, he saw Miss Godolphin in a walk not far
from him, stooping to speak to a child who was attended
by a m'id-servant. He walked over to join her, and as he
approached, he heard the conversation between Miss Godolphin and the child a little girl of extraordinary beauty,
and dressed with exquisite taste. The fair hair and blue
eyes of the child were such as the old painters loved to
transfer to their canvas, and her intelligence was wonderful. Only some six years of age, she conversed with grace
and propriety. Her language was beautiful, and her manner imparted a womanly dignity to all that she uttered.
" My dear Marie," said Miss Godolphin, " are you about
to return home? It is very early yet.  Stay and enjoy the
flowers a little while longer, will you not?"
" Oh! thank you, Miss Godolphin," replied little Marie,
" mamma said I must not stay long out, and I ought to go
now."




DE VANE.                   519
"But would mamma object to your staying a little
longer with me? I will take you home."
The child looked as if she very much wished to stay,
but her face was troubled. She wore a pretty apron, and
as Miss Godolphin stooped to speak to Marie, she saw a
very small stain on it, as if a flower had been crushed
against it. The child's eyes, too, were fixed on it, and she
said, after a moment's pause:
"I think, Miss Godolphin, I had better go now. I was
so unfortunate as to bruise a hyacinth upon my apron, and
mamma told me I must not get a speck on it."
The child was very unhappy. She evidently dreaded to
meet her mother. The whole splendor of the day was
eclipsed for her young soul by that one spot on her apron.
Yet with perfect delicacy she said not a word as to what
would follow the discovery of the stain upon her return
home.
Miss Godolphin's eyes filled with tears as she looked
down upon the bright little creature, wretched because of
a trifle, which would be magnified into a serious offense
by the cruelty of a mother who could punish as a crime a
casualty so trivial. At that moment Waring came up,
and Miss Godolphin lifting her face to him, he saw her
moist eyes. She extended her hand, smiling but silent.
"Ah!" said Waring, " this is my little friend Marie."
The child's face brightened as if a sunbeam had passed
over it, and she exclaimed:
" 0 Mr. Waring! I'm so glad to see you."
He stooped and kissed the child.
" Well, my little Marie," said he, " are you really about
to go? I heard you say to Miss Godolphin that you must
return home."
"Yes, sir," she said, "it is better that I should go. ~I'm
so sorry that I bruised that flower upon my apron; I ought
to have been more careful."




520                   DE VANE.
Waring's heart was touched. He thought of the little
girl returning home to meet a mother so artificial as to
think dress a more serious thing than the happiness of her
child, a mother so cruel as to punish as a grave offense a
little flower-stain, which a heedless step of little feet had
produced; and he resolved that she should not go unattended, that he would go and plead for Marie.
Miss Godolphin looked on. She comprehended how the
great, manly nature of Waring was wrought on, as he
turned to her, and said: " I will walk home with Marie."
"Thank you, Mr. Waring," she said; " do walk home
with her, or rather, as she has perhaps staid a little over
the time, take my carriage, which is at the gate, and I will
await its return."
He thanked her with one of his brightest smiles, and
taking Marie and her servant with him, he drove to M3rs.
De La Roche's residence.
As he handed Marie up to the door, she said:
" Will you not come in and see mamma, Mr. Waring?"
" Yes, my dear Marie, that I will," he said; adding in a
low tone: "I think lions at the threshold could not turn
me back."
Mrs. De La Roche welcomed Waring warmly. She was
a young person, of some twenty-seven years, very animated, and not naturally deficient in heart; but she had for
some years led a life so artificial as to dull her better nature, and she had fallen into the error of restraining her
daughter-an only child-from the sportive exercise so
essential to health and physical development. She admired and respected Waring, and she was much flattered
by his attending the little girl. Of course, her better nature was awake.
"I am happy to see you, Professor Waring," she said.
"I owe the honor of this visit to Marie, I'm sure."
"Yes," said Waring, " I should not have called at this




DE VANE.                   521
time, but for the pleasure of escorting my dear little friend.
I found her in the public garden, and she was upon the
point of starting for home. I prevailed on her to come
with me in the carriage."
"I'm  very greatly obliged to you," said Mrs. De La
Roche,' for I began to fear she would stay longer than I
intended she should."
"She was resolute in coming," said Waring. "Both
Miss Godolphin and myself urged her to stay longer, but
she said her mamma would expect her, and I could not
deny myself the pleasure of coming with her. I found her
somewhat distressed too about a trifle, and I could not
bear to see her unhappy when I knew she was not in
fault."
Marie, who was present, began to look conscious, and
presently walking directly to her mother, she showed her
the stain on the apron. For a moment Mrs. De La Roche's
face flushed; she then smiled, and said:
"Oh! that is not a great matter, Marie; but you must
be more careful next time."
A glow of happiness suffused Marie's face, and returning
to Waring's chair, she looked up into his face with unutterable thanks shining through her blue eyes, and then
disappeared.
Waring then proceeded to describe the unhappiness
which the little girl had suffered on account of a matter so
trivial, and ventured to express his views as to the freedom
and unrestraint which children should enjoy, saying something too of the distinction between the demerit of casualties and of crimes; so that before he took leave of Mrs. De
La Roche, he had really made her conscious of the errors
and mischiefs of the system into which she had drifted.
She thanked him warmly for his interest in her childfor Waring had spoken of her in glowing terms after Marie
had gone out of the room-and invited him to call often




522                    DE VANE.
and visit them. Waring's brief visit had accomplished
much for the happiness of Marie De La Roche. He left
sunshine in a dwelling where too often clouds had surrounded a little form fair as an angel's. Entering the carriage, he returned to the public garden, and found Miss
Godolphin seated near the green-house, while Mr. Swan
was expatiating upon the glories of some new flowers
which he had succeeded in rearing for the first time. He
had presented to Miss Godolphin a bouquet of great beauty,
and as Waring approached, she rose to meet him, saying:
"See how generous Mr. Swan has been. Are not these
beautiful?"
" Very," said Waring. "You must be almost as great
a favorite as )e Vane."
She laughed, and said: "I really believe that I am indebted for the flowers to the interest which I displayed,
while Mr. Swan spoke of him. He has been the subject
of discourse since you left me here. But how was Marie
received?"
"Graciously," replied Waring.
He then gave an account of his interview with Mrs. De
La Roche. Miss Godolphin was deeply interested, and
she thanked Waring with warmth for his interposition in
behalf of the little girl. She had never admired him so
much as at this moment, and her soul shone in her face as
she spoke. Waring, too, as he saw the noble nature of the
woman, so roused by sympathy with a child's sorrow,
comprehended more clearly than ever before her transcendent superiority over the whole tribe of artificial
beings who compose the gay world, and who would despise as a weakness the sensibility which could be touched
by such a cause.
They were passing down the broad walk leading to the
principal gate, and as they approached it, lesser walks, di



DE VANE.                   523
verging on either side, conducted to the more sheltered
parts of the garden.
"Miss Godolphin," said Waring, " are you eager to return to the town?  Or will you take a turn with me
through the garden?"
She looked up into his face quickly, for there was something in his tone which startled her. There was the indefinable voice of the soul, which her own soul heard; and
she read in his face that upon that hour trembled the fate
of both.
" I will walk with you," she said, in low tones.
They turned into the right walk, bordered by evergreens; and for some minutes not a word was uttered by
either. At length Waring spoke.
" Miss Godolphin, I do not know what fate awaits me.
For many months I have observed you; pardon me for
saying it, I have studied you, but I have been unable to
comprehend you.  Some men would risk nothing under
such circumstances-they would seek to know, by some
token, what was before them. I am incapable of trifling;
and, without in the least knowing what may be the result
of my frankness, I can no longer restrain the energy of a
passion which sways my whole nature. I love you!"
Instantly Miss Godolphin stood still. She turned her
soul-lit face full upon Waring. Her lustrous eyes sought
his eyes. Steadily for a moment she fixed her earnest gaze
upon him; then solemnly she laid her ungloved right hand
in his, and burst into tears.
"Forever mine!" said Waring passionately, "forever
mine!" and lifting her hand to his lips, he impressed on it
a fervent kiss.
After a moment, she raised her bowed head. Her face
was radiant, and smiling through her tears, she said:
"Let us go."
All about them, plants in tropical splendor bloomed.




524                   DE VANE.
They were shut in from all the world. None but these
mute witnesses of their vows were present. They walked,
as did our first parents, amid the glories of nature; and
as they turned their steps once more toward the gate,
Waring said:
"My beloved, we quit this garden not with tears, arid
sorrow, and regret, but with a blessing; and looking upward, we may feel that Providence is our guide."
How brightly she smiled on him, as he handed her to
her carriage! The spirited horses dashed away, and as the
flying vehicle passed out of sight, Waring looking up to
Heaven, uttered thanks, and implored a blessing: thanks
for the bliss which was his, and an earnest prayer for the
blessing which enricheth everlastingly.




CHAPTER  XVIII.
"BUT where they are, and why they came not back,
Is now the labor of my thoughts.'Tis likeliest
They had engaged their wandering steps too far."
MILTON'S Comts.
DE VANE was ink Rome. Letters came, full of enthusiasm. The ruins, the fallen columns, the shattered arches,
the broken monuments of a dead empire, filled his imagination.  The modern world, too, interested him  profoundly. The arts, painting and statuary, woke his soul
to new ardor. He had lingered at Florence longer than
he intended; but how could he tear himself away from its
galleries, filled with the triumphs of ancient and modern
art?  How should he quit the banks of the Arno, upon
which Milton had lingered?  How could he withdraw his
gaze from  the paintings of Raphael, or cease to look
upon the works of Miclael Angelo?  How leave the garden of Lorenzo de Miedici, or the spot where Galileo
stood to watch the stars in their wide circuits through the
pellucid heavens?
But he was in Rome, treading upon an empire's dust.
The past and the present met before him. The pomp of
triumph had ascended the steps of the capital, in full view
of the spot where he stood; but the very capital was leveled, and the men who thronged its approaches were gone.
Saint Peter's rose before him; its matchless dome, its illumined cross-the whole structure a monument of modern
civilization, attesting the triumph of Christianity.
(525)




526                    DE VANE.
De Vane, standing in the midst of such impressive objects, found his soul roused. He re-visited the past, traveled over its track, guided by the lights of history; and
he. saw at his feet the ruin of the proudest structure man
had ever reared-the Roman Empire! What had survived
of it? Where were its temples? Where its gods? Where
its priests? Where was its religion? The Niobe of nations was voiceless!
How was it that a faith, springing up in a province of
that empire, had outlived all its power and glory, and
while the palaces of the Casars had passed away, reared
its own temples upon the hills where they once stood'?
How was it that while the fierce legions which, returning from the conquest of distant nations, had thundered
through the streets of the imperial city, were all gone,
the disciples of Him who, upon the slopes of the Mount
of Olives, had inaugurated a kingdom, still trod these
streets which had been the scene of so much pomp and
splendor?
Along the banks of the Tiber, Cicero had walked, uttering his lamentations for a daughter torn from his arms by
death-a stricken, hopeless father, seeking to perpetuate
the memory of a beloved object, by erecting a temple on
the spot where his eyes rested with a fond and yet sad
association.  But father, daughter, temple, all were gone;
while a triumphant faith, making its way only by preaching its doctrines with a simplicity that did not aspire to
rival his eloquence, to-day threw its illuminating splendors
over a realm wider than the empire in its proudest days,
and uttered, in almost every language under heaven, its
consolations over the graves of the loved and the departed.
One night, De Vane had walked out. I-e was alone.
The moon was flooding the heavens with its silvery splendor; the distant hills stood looking down upon the Eternal




DE VANE.                    527
City. He saw the Coliseum standing out grandly against
the sky, and he recalled the fierce sports of the people who
once filled its ample amphitheatre. The past rolled before
him with all its deeds; the civilization of that age he saw
for the first time in all its revolting barbarism-splendid,
but hard, barren, and material; and he asked himself if
the world had reached its highest triumphs under such a
tutelage?
What were the proudest achievements of the mighty
men who had bowed at the shrine of the imperial city,
compared with the career of a single apostle of Christianity, Saint Paul, whose very presence there had thrown a
noonday splendor over the whole empire?
Christianity rose before him in the sublimest proportions. He surveyed its progress; he saw its trophies gathered out of every nation which it had visited-splendid,
glorious, and not stained with blood. He saw its silken
banners everywhere spread in all climes to cheer and to
bless, uttering its invitations to the nations to cease from
war, and seeking to gather the whole race of men into one
brotherhood. He retraced his steps. Iie saw the dome of
Saint Peter's, and upon the cross the pure light lay. It
was the symbol of a faith that upheld the very badge of
its humiliation above the proudest monuments of worldly
power and glory: the only symbol which it emblazoned
on its conquering banners. The clear heavens were spread
out upon him. There were the stars that had looked down
upon all the eventful history of the imperial city which
lay at his feet, brilliant chroniclers of the steady progress
of that faith which, without arms, had extended its dominion over the proudest seats of empire that the world acknowledged. The by-gone centuries swept into view; and
there, with the past and the present meeting upon the
site of the world's capital, shattered monuments of hu



528                   DE VANE.
man glory and towering Christian temple, he exclaimed:
" CHRISTIANITY IS TRUE!.)
From that hour, with the directness and frankness of his
nature, he submitted himself to the teachings of the Christian system; and it might be said of him as of Saul of Tarsus, after he had seen the overpowering display of supernal
glory which burst upon his vision on the road to Damascus: "' Behold he prayeth!"
All this' progress in the spiritual development of De
Vane had been observed both by Waring and Esther, who,
as they read his letters from time to time, expressing his
convictions, emotions, and views, comprehended his state;
and when they saw at last that the morning-star for which
they had so long watched, had risen upon the soul of the
wanderer, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy.
The spring came; and nature was once more robed in
beauty. The woods were vocal with the songs of birds;
the China-trees, with which the town abounded, were
covered with their delicate purple blooms; the gardens
were brilliant.
Miss Godolphin and Esther saw each other daily, and
Waring was often with them. They were in sympathy
with each other, and De Vane's letters to Warinig were
seen by the others, and were, of course, eagerly read by
Mr. and Mrs. Springfield. For some weeks none had been
received from him. The advancing season was deepening
into summer, and the time for De Vane's return-voyage
was not distant.
One evening Waring hurried to Mr. Springfield's. He
was just in time for tea. lMiss Godolphin was there; and
entering the library almost without knocking, he found
the party rising to pass into the room where the table was
spread. All greeted him warmly, and Mrs. Springfield
said:
"Ah! Professor, you are very welcome, and I am glad




DE VANE.                    529
to have you with us, to partake of the finest strawberries
we have had this season."
"Strawberries!" said Waring, "so late as this?"
"Yes," replied Mrs. Springfield, "and the very finest
we have had. They are just now in perfection."
"Thank you," said Waring.- "I will most gladly join
you."  And giving his arm to Mrs. Springfield, they all
entered the supper-room.
Mr. Springfield said: " Well, Professor Waring, what of
Mr. De Vane? Any late tidings of him?"
Waring smiled and said: " How is it that you anticipate
me?"
All looked eagerly at him; and taking a letter from his
pocket, he handed it to Esther. Perfect as her self-control
usually was, she rose to receive it, and, unable to conceal
her emotion, she hurried from the room.
" It was my intention to withhold Miss Wordsworth's
letter," said Waring, "until after the strawberries were
discussed; but there was no resisting such an appeal as her
face made to me, after your question."
" It was a little unlucky," said Mr. Springfield; "but I
trust that you have good accounts from him."
"Very good," said Waring. "He writes me at some
length, and gives a very interesting account of a discovery
which he has just made. Miss Godolphin, the mystery
which has hitherto hung about your picture-the Daughter
of Herodias-is explained."
"Indeed!" she exclaimed.'C And how?"
"Do you not remember that De Vane has more than
once written about an artist for whom he felt a great liking, from his first visit to his studio?" said Waring.
"Yes; a painter, a native of this country, whom he describes as full of genius and all fine qualities. But I do
not know that he has ever given his name," said Miss Godolphin.
23




530                   DE VANE.
"He has never done so till now," said Waring. " He has
until recently resided at Naples, but he is now in Rome."
" Can it be Mr. Lawrence," exclaimed Miss Godolphin,
"the artist who painted the picture which Esther so
strongly resembles?"
"The same," saidWaring. "He has explained every
thing to De Vane. Do you remember, Mrs. Springfield,
to have known some years since, a painter of that name?"
"Perfectly well," she replied. "But I have heard nothing of him for years. I knew that he had gone abroad,
but for a long, long while, I have lost all trace of him."
"I do not remember to have known him," said Mr.
Springfield.
"I do not know that you ever met him," said Mrs.
Springfield. "I saw him when I was very young."
"And how is the mystery explained?" asked Miss Godolphin.
"It seems," said Waring, "that De Vane became intimate with the artist whom he so much admired, and visited
his -studio habitually. Calling one morning, he found Mr.
Lawrence not at home; but still, without hesitation, he
entered the rooms of the artist, and seated himself to await
his coming. The room where Mr. Lawrence slept opened
into his studio, and as De Vane sat awaiting him, he saw
what he had never observed before. The door of the
artist's bed-chamber was open; it had hitherto been kept
as scrupulously concealed from the view of visitors as the
interior of a Turkish mosque from Christians. In full view
of where De Vane was seated, stood the light, graceful bed
of the artist, and over it hung, in an elaborate oval frame,
a painting in the highest style of art. It was the bust of
a girl of some seventeen years, the face slightly averted
but the large, blue eyes visible, and the profuse golden
hair falling about the perfect neck. It was a portrait so




DE VANE.                   531
perfect in its resemblance to Miss Wordsworth, that De
Vane started."
"A  portrait of Esther?" exclaimed Mrs. Springfield,
with astonishment.
"So perfect," said Waring, "that De Vane sprang from
his chair, and was standing transfixed with astonishment
when Mr. Lawrence entered. Observing De Vane's excitement, he was himself at a loss to account for it; and
an explanation followed, which is given at length in the
letter which I received this evening. It seems that early
in life Mr. Lawrence had known Miss Wordsworth's
mother, and had been employed to paint her portrait."
"It hangs now in Esther's room," said Mrs. Springfield,
"and answers perfectly the description which Mr. De
Vane gives of the picture in Mr. Lawrence's possession."
"The young painter loved the beautiful being whose
picture he had been engaged to paint, and meeting no encouragement, did not venture to breathe a passion which
he felt was hopeless. He copied the picture which he had
painted, and it had, from that hour, been the sole solace of
his lonely hours. He has never married; the one fatal,
hopeless passion of his youth has continued to flame up in
a heart which would be desolate but for its fires. He has
never reproduced the form and features so precious to him
but in one instance; wishing to paint a picture of the very
highest style of art, he represented the daughter of Herodias, with that ineffaceable image enshrined in his heartthe picture, Miss Godolphin, which you possess. De Vane
then explained to the artist his own interest in the picture.
You may imagine how it deepened the friendship which
had already grown into strength between De Vane and a
man whom he so much admired, and with whom he now
so profoundly sympathizes."
"It is very wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Springfield. " I
well remember young Lawrence. His genius and his ar



532                   DE VANE.
dor interested us, and my brother contributed every thing
within his power to his advancement."
"That accounts for his wish, that the picture whicl he
so much prized should be seen here," said Miss Godolphin;
"for he must have heard of Esther, and of her residing
here."
"Yes. So De Vane states. Mr. Lawrence has-never
lost sight of the family of one that so deeply interested
him, though he has had no direct communication with
them," replied Waring.
"Does he not intend to re-visit this country?" asked Mr.
Springfield.
" He has resided abroad so long," replied Waring, "that
he has now no attachments to bind him here; and his
tastes and habits would unfit him for society, as it exists
with us."
" I should be very happy to meet him," said Mr. Springfield.
"He is one of the most agreeable persons I have ever
met," said Miss Godolphin. "  is library is immense, and
his collection of works of art would enrich a king. His
conversation of itself would attract you; and if there were
neither pictures, nor statues, nor books in his house, it
would be still filled with the first people of all countries,
who travel for sight-seeing, and who know how to prize
genius. At Naples his villa was the most attractive place
in the kingdom."
" De Vane writes me," said Waring, "that it is the intention of Mr. Lawrenbe to reside permanently in Rome.
He is arranging a residence at this time. He is a man of
very considerable wealth. His pictures have brought him
a great deal of money. Several of them are in royal galleries. Two of his finest are in the palace of the Duke
D'Arenberg at Brussels, and the King of Bavaria has jtst




DE VANE.                   533
engaged him to paint an historical piece, which will require two years for its completion."
"I greatly admired the pictures which I saw at Mrs.
Habersham's," said Mr. Springfield.'"But I shall study
them now with increased interest."
"I was never before able to account for the extraordinary resemblance between Esther and the picture of the
Daughter of Herodias," said Mr. Springfield.  "It has
often perplexed me. She is the very image of her mother,
at her age. I have never seen a likeness so perfect, and
the fact that Mr. Lawrence has in his possession a portrait
of the mother, enabled him to paint from it a picture which
could not resemble Esther more perfectly, if she had stood
before the artist in person."
They rose from the table, and passed into the library.
Esther was seated, still reading the letter which Waring
had. handed her. It was very long; and after reading it,
page after page, she had again read it, and was dwelling
upon some of its passages when she was interrupted by
the party coming from the supper-room into the library.
It gave even a fuller explanation of the picture of her
mother-its possession by the artist, and his enduring
loyalty to his first love-than that contained in the letter
to Waring; and it described vividly De Vane's own emotions upon seeing it. It was to her a precious letter, full
of passionate tenderness and glowing hope. As the party
entered the room, Esther raised her radiant face, and look.
ing at Waring, she exclaimed:
" Is it not wonderful?"
"We have all been saying so," he replied; " for, in your
absence, I gave to our friends an account of the discovery
made by De Vane, which he has, I suppose, communicated
to you."
"And did you know Mr. Lawrence, aunt?" asked Esther.




534.                  DE - VAE.
"Yes; and I well remember him.   Full of ardor and
genius, your father, b6th before and after his marriage,
gave to the young artist such assistance as enabled him to
pursue his career."
Mrs. Springfield then gave a full account of the early
life of Mr. Lawrence, which interested all, and made them
feel as if a new friend had been added to their circle.
De Vane had written that he was about to make a brief
visit to Greece, in company with Mr. Lawrence, and that,
upon their return to Rome, he should pass rapidly through
Germany and Belgium into England, to take passage in
an American vessel at Liverpool for New-York.
Weeks fled by, but no letters were received from De
Vane. A vague sense of uneasiness began to steal over
the minds of his friends. It took no defined shape; but
the heart grew sick under the very uncertainty which
hung about his fate. To those who love, absence is an
ordeal of suffering; but if we are utterly ignorant of the
very place where the loved and absent are, of all the perils
to which they are exposed, when wide seas roll their
fathomless waters between us, the uncertainty which
overspreads every thing connected with them, chills hope
with its mists, if it can not cool the ardor of a sentiment
too strong to be quenched by all the waves and the billows
which roll over us.




CHAPTER XIX.
-"WHAT is this old history, but a lesson given,
How true love still conquers by the deep strength of truthHow all the impulses whose native home is heaven,
Sanctify the visions of hope, and faith, and youth?'Tis for such they waken!"
The Awakening of Endlynion.
SUiMMER came with its splendors, but no tidings had yet
been received from De Vane.  Waring and Miss Godolphin
were more than ever with Esther, and cheered her with
their hopeful view of the causes which had hindered the
arrival of letters. The beautiful lines of her own character
were now  distinctly visible.   Never for a moment did
doubt cloud the heaven of her soul.' She was unhappy,
but it was from  apprehension' that the treacherous sea
might have engulfed the object of her solicitude.   Her
own loyalty was unswerving; and she did not suffer the
faintest shadow of distrust of his to steal upon her heart.
Prayer was her resource when alone; and often she outwatched the stars.  Like Tennyson's Mariana, she would
throw open the lattice-blind, and lean upon the balcony:
"There all in spaces rosy-bright,
Large Hesper glittered on her tears,
And deepening through the silent spheres,
Heaven over heaven rose the night."
But hope shed its lustre over her troubled spirit, and she
would retire comforted by her, trust in Him whose sleepless
(535)




356                    DE VANE.
care is over all his works, and whose power is as great in
the wide sea as upon the high places of the earth.
She was at Leasowes, engaged in some of the little tasks
which called her -there at times on Saturday. Three or
four of the larger girls were seated near her; one of them,
Mary Sinclair, who was busy with a piece of embroidery.
Esther sat with her face drooping over a sketch which she
was making, as a guide for one of the little girls, who
had exhibited both taste and genius in drawing.
"There is Mr. Waring coming, Miss Esther," said Mary
Sinclair. Esther started, sprang to her feet, and ran to
the door, borne by an impulse which she could not control.
Waring was rapidly approaching the house. His face was
resplendent; his great soul beamed through his eyes, and
he exclamed: "All's well-!"
Esther could not restrain herself. She sank upon a seat,
and passionate tears rained from her eyes. It was a summer shower; for, presently recovering her self-possession,
she looked up to Waring, as he stood, in mute respect
awaiting the subsiding of her emotion, and a smile like
sunlight illumined her features.
"O Mr. Waring!" she exclaimed, "you must pardon
my weakness."
" You ladies," said Waring, smiling brightly, " are extraordinary beings. If one brings you a piece of good
news, you are sure to greet him with tears. But I ought
not to reproach you; for, upon calling at the office this
morning, when letters from De Vane were handed me, I
found the lines which I was reading wet with my own
tears; but they were tears of joy. The fellow has been
wandering through Greece with Mr. Lawrence; and like
a couple of enthusiasts, they were six weeks longer than
they had intended, exploring out-of-the-way places and
searching ruins, and so neglected to write. De Vane now
writes from Dresden, where Mr. Lawrence has accom



DE VANE.                   537
panied him; for that gentleman seems to have taken a
prodigious fancy to our friend, just as if he deserved it.
They are now exploring the galleries of art; and De Vane
is to be in Paris by the latter part of this month. He has
decided to sail from Havre, and he will not re-visit England; so that, if prosperous, he may reach New-York by
the middle of September.
He handed Esther a package of letters. She looked her
thanks.
" Will you be at home this evening?" asked Waring.
"Yes; and we shall be happy to see you," she replied.
" Will you come?"
With the greatest pleasure," he replied.
"And would you offer any objection," said Esther archly, "if I should propose to invite Miss Godolphin to join
us, and hear the tidings from our absent friend?"
"Oh! none whatever," said WVaring, laughing, and actually blushing. "And now I leave you to your letters.
Good-morning."
"Au revoir!" said Esther, not entering the house, but
snatching her parasol and hastening to the fountain.
There was no spot on earth where she could read De
Vane's letters with so much pleasure; and as she opened
the package which she had just received, she felt that she
possessed a treasure of priceless value. There were several letters, and they were very long. She read and reread them; and the tears of joy which fell upon her soullit face, were as bright as the waters of the little fountain
which sparkled in the sunbeams, glancing upon them
through the surrounding shrubbery.
In the evening, when Waring arrived at Mr. Springfield's, he found Miss Godolphin already there. She had
learned from Esther the good tidings respecting De Vane,
and a glow of happiness overspread the party assembled
in the library.
23*




638                    DE VANE.
"So Mr. De Vane is really on his way to this country, it may fairly be concluded, from what he reports of
himself," said Mr. Springfield. "I suppose he may have
sailed by this time."
"Yes," said Waring, "he may be on the ocean at this
moment, and I shall soon look for his arrival in NewYork."'
"Of course he will make some stay in Virginia," said
Mr. Springfield.
"Oh! yes," said Waring; " and yet I shall look for
him here early in October. I called at his place to-day, to
give some instructions to his servant, who was almost
frantic with joy upon hearing that his master was so
soon to be here."
" He has inquired of me, I think, at least three times a
week for the last three months," said Mr. Springfield, " to
know if I had heard any thing from Mr. De Vane; and
the fellow seemed to think that I ought to set out to look
for him, if he did not return pretty soon."
" He is a faithful fellow," said Waring, "and has his
master's horses in perfect condition."
"My friend Hobbs is about as impatient as Caesar.
He has actually called on me every Sunday morning for a
month past, to know if I have had any accounts from his
friend De Vane; and the last time he called, he began to
swear that he thought some of the people across the water
had shown him foul play, and was especially hard on the
British."
" Oh!" said Miss Godolphin, laughing, " that must be
a prejudice of his, derived from reading the Life of Marion
lately, which you gave me some account of, Mr. Waring."
"Quite likely," said Waring; "but I shall be able to
relieve his mind in the morning, for he will certainly call."
At this moment Mr. Clarendon entered the room, and
all rose to welcome him.




DE VANE.                   539
"Mrs. Springfield," he said,' these young people do not
treat me well, and I have come to you to' complain of
them."
"Is it possible?" she replied. "  We must inquire into
that. How have they offended?"
" Why, madam," said Mr. Clarendon, taking a hand of
each of the young ladies, " they do not permit me to share
their confidence. They receive letters from persons at
home and abroad, and never inform me of their contents;
and I appeal to you to say if this conduct is not wholly
inconsistent with their professions of regard for me."
"I do think," replied Mrs. Springfield, " that they deserve some mark of your displeasure, if they have committed so grave an offense; but I can scarcely believe
that it was designed, for they both speak of you in terms
so glowing, that I am sure they are delighted to have the
opportunity of speaking to you about any thing that concerns them."
"We shall see about that," said Mr. Clarendon. " Here
is that fellow De Vane, for whom I had some regard,
takes himself off-at the instance, I suspect, of one or the
other of these ladies; he wanders in Europe, does not
give me a single line for months together, writes to these
ladies, one or both, and they say not one word to me on
the subject. Now I insist, that after taking that young
gentleman from under my control, and then banishing
him from the country, they should at least keep me informed of his movements, that I might do something for
his relief, if he should require it."
Mr. Clarendon looked very much like an injured person,
and still stood retaining the hands of Miss Godolphin and
of Esther.
"I assure you, Mr. Clarendon," said Miss Godolphin,'that we are delighted to see you. We were burning




540                    DE VANE.
with impatience to talk with you about Mr. De Vane, and
your coming is most fortunate."
"We are indeed delighted to see you," said Esther.
"Your coming has completed our happiness."
"Then, Mrs. Springfield," said he, " I must pardon the
seeming slight, and restore them to favor." And kissing
the hand of each, he released them.
"Well, Professor Waring," he continued, " what is this
about De Vane? Is he really intending to come back to
us? I met his servant riding one of his horses to-day, and
he told me that you had letters from his master; so calling at Mrs. Bowen's to inquire after our friend, I was informed that I should find you here, and pursued you."
" I am very glad that you did so," replied Waring. " We
have the best accounts from De Vane. He was at Dresden, en route for Paris; and expected to sail from Havre,
with as little delay as possible."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Clarendon. "Then we shall have
him with us presently. What has detained him?"
"A visit to Greece with an American artist of celebrity,
Mr. Lawrence, who has for some years resided at Naples,
but is now establishing himself in Rome."
"Lawrence!" exclaimed Mr. Clarendon. "I very well
remember him.  I met him in Paris, and was proud of
him as an artist from my own country. Le Grande and I
both predicted his great eminence."
"The pictures which you have observed at my aunt's
are by him, Mr. Clarendon," said Miss Godolphin.
" You amaze me," said he. "I remember that you said
they were by an American artist, but it did not occur to
me to ask his name. They are pictures of extraordinary
merit. Do you not think them such, Mr. Springfield?"
" I quite agree with you," replied Mr. Springfield. "I
have admired them greatly. Do you know that one of
his early pieces is in this house?"




DE VANE.                    541
"In this house? How does that happen?" asked Mr.
Clarendon.  "Has De Vane sent it over?"
" Oh! no," replied Mr. Springfield. "It was painted long
before Mr. De Vane knew the artist.  Esther, may we
have the picture, brought down, that Mr. Clarendon may
see it?"
She instantly rose, and, quitting the room, soon after
returned, a servant bearing the picture. It was a portrait
in the highest style of art; and the resemblance to Esther
was so perfect that Mr. Clarendon exclaimed: "What
mystery is this? I do not comprehend it."
Esther smiled, and replied: " That, Mr. Clarendon, is a
portrait of my mother, painted by Mr. Lawrence, before
he left this country."
"My dear young friend," he replied, "it is absolutely
wonderful.  I could fancy that it was yourself, looking out of that oval frame as a lady looks from her lattice. There is the great charm  of Lawrence's pictures.
Their naturalness is perfect, and the coloring has all the
transparency that distinguishes the works of the old masters."
"The picture, when painted, was thought to be perfect," said Mrs. Springfield. "Esther's resemblance to her
mother is really wonderful."
"I thank you, Miss Wordsworth, with all my heart, for
permitting me to see this. I can imagine how you must
prize it," said Mr. Clarendon.
The picture was restored to Esther's chamber.
"I shall be delighted to see De Vane," said Mr. Clarendon. " He has not written to me of late, and I was not
in any way informed as to his recent plans of travel."
"In his letter to me, received to-day," said Waring, " he
wishes me to assure you of his warmest regards, and
says that his friend, Mr. Lawrence, the artist, has asked




542                    DE VANE.
after you with the greatest interest, recalling vividly your
visits to his studio."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Clarendon.  "I wonder that he
has not forgotten me long since."
"That would argue himself unknown," said Miss Godolphin.
" Thank you," said Mr. Clarendon; " that is so flattering
to my amour propre that I must pardon your late neglect."
It was late before Mr. Clarendon took leave. Miss Godolphin took her departure soon after, and Waring accompanied her.
It was distinctly understood that they were to be married at some time, but no day had been agreed on. With
perfect independence she conducted herself, and took no
pains to conceal her engagement to Waring. Such was
her respect for him, that she disdained the affectation of
indifference; and w'ithout avowing to others her regard
for him, she left it to be inferred from her deportment.
Mrs. Habersham had long known and appreciated War.
ing, and she did not conceal her gratification at his preference for her niece. She said to Mrs. Springfield: "Some
persons might suppose that I would regard Professor
Waring an unequal match for my niece. He has no fortune, and he avows his purpose to adhere to the Methodist ministry; but I really rejoice at the inequality of their
circumstances, for it affords us the opportunity of showing our appreciation of a true man. My niece has an ample fortune, quite sufficient for them both; and if it were
not, I would make up the deficiency. I should be delighted to enrich such a man as Mr. Waring."
Waring intended to await the arrival of De Vane before
asking Miss Godolphin to appoint a day for their marriage;
and she comprehended and approved the feeling which
restrained him.




DE VANE.                   543
The weeks flew swiftly. The approach of autumn was
visible. Already some of the students were returning to
the College, making their arrangements for the approaching session; and the town gave signs of cheerful activity.
The streets were filled with young, bright, happy groups,
meeting again after a separation of months; and the place
wore that air of animation which so preeminently distinguished it-the animation not of trade, but of society, in
its activity and refinement, exhibiting itself in the many
forms of life.
Letters came from  De Vane. He had reached NewYork, and it was his purpose to pass some days there.
Then he was to visit Virginia, and he proposed to reach
"home," as he wrote to Waring, by the middle of October. His letter to Esther breathed unchanging love. He
was eager to return to her, that he might assure her of
his loyalty, and claim her with the sanction even of his
father-a sanction which he was confident would not be
reluctantly given, now that he had borne the ordeal of
TIME and ABSENCE.
His love had conquered by the deep strength of truth.
Even when broad seas had roared between them; when
he trod the streets of gay cities, and moved in the brilliant circles of the capitals of Europe; or when dwelling
in the-midst of the soul-awakening scenes of those climes
where glory still lingers at its ancient shrines, never
had his love known languor nor decline; but, glowing,
strong, and full of hope, it reigned supreme.
The visions of hope, and faith, and youth were now to
be realized.
The exile was ended. LovE and TRUTH had triumphed..




CHAPTER XX,
"ASK me no more: thy fate and mine are sealed."
TENNYSON.
A MILD October evening had succeeded a brilliant day.
The lingering rays of the sun fell upon Leasowes, and
touched its foliage with golden tints. Esther, after a day
of unusual exertion-for some two or three little girls had
just been admitted for the first time into her establishment-sat at the fountain, her favorite resort for repose
and meditation.  The place had grown into perfect beauty. The rarest flowers bloomed around it, and the roses,
yet as fresh as if spring still breathed upon them, bent
over the clear water, and mingled their perfume with the
spray which fell in the marble basin. Esther was dreaming.  She recalled the events of the two past years.  On
such an evening as this she had met De Vane for the first
time.  Since then, how had he influenced her very being!
How blended was his image with every vision of the future!
She might exclaim, in the language of Tennyson's lines:
"I strove against the stream, and all in vain;
Let the great river take me to the main."
She was alone.  The thick shrubbery shut out the view of
the house and the grounds, and yet the solitude was radiant
with the light of love and hope.
She was startled by the sound of footsteps very near
her, and turning, she saw De Vane.  Instantly she started
(544)




DE VANE.                   545
to her feet, and with an impulse too strong to be resisted,
she threw herself into De Vane's arms. He pressed her to
his heart, and for the first time imprinted upon her glowing lips a long, lingering kiss of love. Her eyes rained
tears, and yet the face was bright with unutterable joy.
"And are you mine now, Esther?" he asked.
"Oh! yes," she exclaimed, " forever."
Again he kissed her rapturously, and looking down into
her true, fathomless eyes, he said:
"Yes, my own Esther, you will walk like an angel by
my side through all the future. Do you remember when
I first spoke my love to you here? Then you were too
true to deceive me. You would not consent to be mine.
Now every lingering obstacle has been removed. My
father is ready to receive you as a daughter, and my aunt
is eager to embrace you. We have triumphed, my Esther, and we shall now live for each other."
Her soul beamed in her face. Her large, deep blue eyes,
her golden hair, her perfect features, made her beauty dazzling; and as De Vane looked down upon her, he felt that
in all his wanderings he had not- beheld such matchless
charms. Neither in the aristocratic circles of Europe, nor
in the day-dreams of the old masters still glowing in the
galleries of art, had he found any form that could rival
hers.
They turned their steps toward the house, for Esther had
said that she must call for a moment, to give some parting
instructions to Mrs. Green. De Vane had called on entering
the grounds, and had received a warm welcome from Mrs.
Green, who, in answer to his inquiries, had told him that
she believed Esther had gone to walk in the direction of
the fountain. He therefore walked now to the gate to await
her, that she might be unembarrassed in making her arrangements. She soon joined him, and they proceeded to
Mr. Springfield's. De Vane had already called there to




546                   DE VANE.
ask for Esther, but none of the family were at home. He
now entered the house with Esther, who, conducting him
to the library, went to seek her aunt. At that moment
Mr. and Mrs. Springfield drove up, having just returned
from an evening's drive, and entering the library, they
welcomed De Vane as they would have received a longabsent son.
"I need not say that we are delighted to see you, Mr.
De Vane," said Mr. Springfield. "We have long since
given you a place in our hearts."
"I am very grateful," said De Vane. "If you could
only know how I have longed to enter this house once
more, you would comprehend how delightful this welcome
is to me. In all my wanderings, my heart has been here
every evening; and but for the intervening space, I should
have entered this circle every day at this hour."
"You should have been most welcome," said Mrs.
Springfield. "You have never been out of our thoughts,
and we are delighted to see you here once more. When
did you arrive?"
"Some two hours since," said De Vane. " I found Waring upon the point of starting for the College, and I told
him that I should pass the evening here, so that you may
expect him very soon."
A moment after, he entered the room, and exclaimed:
"So you are really here. Well, I am delighted to see you
in this library once more."
"And I am most happy to be here," said De Vane,
"I hope that we shall now resume our old habits," said
Mr. Springfield; "we must have our evenings here as
formerly."
"Let us begin at once," said Mrs. Springfield. "Esther,
will you send for Miss Godolphin?"
" With the greatest pleasure," she said. "Is the carriage at the door?"




DE VANE.                   547
It was driven round in a moment, and -Mr. Springfield
rising, said: "I claim the privilege of escorting Miss Go-.
dolphin this evening. She is too great a favorite of mine
to be confided to any one else under these circumstances."
He entered the carriage and drove off.
"I believe," said Mrs. Springfield., laughing, "that no
one loves Miss Godolphin better than Mr. Springfield does.
If she were a daughter, she could not be dearer to him."
"She is a very lovable person I suspect. Waring, is
she not?" asked De Vane.
" I believe, De Vane, that you always admitted her to
be such," said Waring, " and I do not wonder that Mr.
Springfield is attached to her, for she loves him dearly."
" Yes," said Esther, " she loves and venerates him beyond expression. Their views of literature, of'religion,
and of society harmonize perfectly.  And if they were
members of the Roman Catholic Church, I think that Miss
Godolphin would hardly wait for his death to have him
canonized."
"Mr. Springfield's esteem for Miss Godolphin is such,"
said Mrs. Springfield, "that he actually converses with
her upon the gravest theological questions, and he says
that he often find his own views much enlightened by her
opinions."
"I have always thought her a superior person," said De
Vane, " and I have learned to appreciate her more than
ever since my visit to her relatives in England. I did not
know before what she had endured. Her own account of
it softened its severity."
"And what has become of Hubert Godolphin?" asked
Esther.
" You will be surprised to learn," said De Vane, "that
he is to marry my friend Clara Guilford."
" Is it possible?" exclaimed Esther. " I am really delighted."




548                    DE VANE.
"Yes," said De Vane; "they will suit each other perfectly. Clara's ideas of life will now be fully met-wealth,
splendor, and a rigid aristocratic circle, where her beauty
will make her an object of constant admiration."
Wheels were heard approaching the house, and Esther,
springing up, ran to receive her friend. Miss Godolphin
entered the room, and De Vane, hastening to where she
stood, took her hand in both his, and said:
"I am indeed happy, Miss Godolphin, to meet you once
more."
"And I am delighted to see you here, Mr. De Vane,"
she said. "You must never wander again."
" Never until we can all go together," said De Vane.
" I consent to that," said Waring.
Esther said nothing, but smiled brightly as De Vane
turned his glance upon her.
The evening passed with charmed hours. A  supper,
after the old fashion, at Mr. Springfield's, was enjoyed by
them all, De Vane declaring that he had found nothing to
equal it in all his travels. He had grown somewlat more
robust since his departure. He was now in high health,
and as he sat by the side of Esther, his dark hair and
bronzed face afforded a striking contrast to her golden
curls and perfect complexion. Waring observed them with
silent pleasure, in his generous and noble nature forgetting
for a time his own happiness.
In the library, De Vane asked Esther for a song; and
seating herself at her harp-a splendid instrument, which
De Vane had sent to her from Paris-she sang those beautiful lines of Moore, beginning:
"'Tis believed that this harp which I wake now for thee,
Was a siren of old who sang under the sea."
Her voice, unrivaled in depth and tenderness, was full of
true passion, and gave to the closing sentiment an eloquent




DE VANE                    549
power which was felt by De Vane to transcend any music
he had ever heard. The perfect grace, too, of the tribute
to his presence which the selection of the song conveyed,
was deeply felt by him; and as the music ceased, he said to
Esther, in tones of subdued tenderness, simply:' "I thank
you."
She rose from the instrument. Miss Godolphin was invited to sing, but she declined. She felt that the beautiful
appropriateness of the song which had just been heard
should not be disturbed.
It was late when the little circle of friends was broken
by Miss Godolphin's rising to take leave. Waring accompanied her, and soon after De Vane said: " Good-night!"
On the way to Mrs. Habersham's, Waring pressed Miss
Godolphin to name the day for their marriage, urging that
as De Vane had now returned, there could no longer be
any reason for delay. It was agreed that it should take
place on Christmas morning, and that they should make a
brief visit to Waring's friends in Georgia, at that time.
As but two months intervened, no time was to be lost
in making preparations for the event, and Mrs. Habersham's
residence was the scene of the greatest activity for several
weeks; Mrs. Springfield and Esther aiding with their
labors to prepare for the important coming event. Every
thing was arranged with perfect taste.
Winter wore its brightest robe. Snow had fallen the
night before, and the sun that ushered in Christmas morning saw his splendors reflected back by every object upon
which they fell. The bridal party consisted of. Waring
and Miss Godolphin, attended by De Vane and Esther, Mr.
and Mrs. Springfield, Mrs. Habersham, Mr. and Mrs. Clarendon, and a few other friends. The marriage took place
in the Methodist church at nine o'clock in the morning,
and the service was performed by Mr. Springfield.
Immediately after,the ceremony, Waring and his bride




550                    DE VANE.
entered a handsome traveling-carriage, and drove to Mrs.
Habersham's, where the whole party assembled, and sat
down to a Christmas breakfast.
When it was ended, Waring and his bride, taking leave
of their friends, entered their carriage, upon which their
trunks were strapped, and drove away.
They were absent but a fortnight, and upon their return
Mrs. TIabersham insisted so earnestly that they should reside with her, that they consented to do so. Happy months
followed. One evening in every week, the friends now so
endeared to each other, met at Mrs. Iabersham's; and
every Thursday evening found them  assembled in Mrs.
Springfield's library.
It was arranged that De Vane and Esther should be
married on the first day of the following May. She would
not consent to an earlier day. She was very young, and
she for some time insisted that the marriage should be deferred for twelve months; but she yielded to De Vane's
earnest wish. Immediately upon his arrival, he had made
arrangements for a handsome residence, to be built upon
his place, and it afforded him great gratification to observe
its progress. He consulted Esther from time to time as
to changes in his plans, and her taste suggested several
improvements which he at once adopted. The shrubbery
was already beautiful; it had grown under Mr. Swan's
fostering hand, and it rivaled the public garden in its attractions.
Spring came at length, and the town was once more
robed in beauty. Never had a lovelier season opened upon
the earth. Leasowes was in its glory, and it was there
that the marriage was to take place. Esther preferred it,
and so did De Vane. It was endeared to them both by
the most precious associations.  The first of May was
cloudless. The morning was balmy, and Leasowes welcomed it with foliage and flowers of the rarest beauty.




DE VANE.                   551
It was arranged that the ceremony should be performed
at six o'clock in the evening; that a few friends only should
be present; and that after it was over, the party should
drive to De Vane's residence, which was to be opened for
the first time that evening.
Never had Esther appeared so beautiful.  She wore
white, always becoming to her; and the flush upon her
face heightened her charms. There were no attendants,
but the little girls, all dressed in white, stood near her,
objects of her generous solicitude and witnesses of her
happiness.
Mr. Springfield performed the ceremony, and the blessing which he uttered sounded in the ears of De Vane and
Esther as if an angel with' outspread wings had hovered
over them, to seal it with the impress of Heaven. Mr.
Clarendon came forward, his face lit with the ardor of his
great soul, and taking a hand of each, he said:
" De Vane, if I had been a younger man and an unmarried one, you should not have borne away this prize witlhout breaking a lance with me; but I feel bound to say that
I doubt if, in all the world, Miss Wordsworth could have
given herself to a young fellow who deserved her better."
Both thanked him warmly. There, too, was Waring
and his wife, splendidly beautiful, both full of joy. Mrs.
Bowen and Mrs. Green, and Mr. Swan and Mrs. Gildersleeve, and some other friends, partook of the overflowing
happiness; while Jacob and Caesar were as jubilant as was
consistent with their importance on the occasion.
Refreshments abounded; and after passing an hour at
Leasowes, the party repaired to De Vane's residence, where
the amplest arrangements were made for the reception of
a large company. Mrs. Springfield received the guests,
and presided throughout the evening. The entertainment
was very brilliant, and all who saw De Vane, with his
young bride by his side, felt that two beings better suited




552                  DE VANE.
to tread the ways of life together had never plighted their
faith since that happy hour when our first parents stood
in Eden, hand in hand, and looked up through the stars to
praise their Maker.
Music, conversation, and refreshments were enjoyed by
all who were present, and the evening was long recalled
as one of the brightest ever known in a place remarkable
for the elegance and grace of its entertainments.
The guests had departed, and De Vane was left alone
with Esther. She was now his own.
She stood before him his wife, and taking her in his
arms, he said: "I feel, my own Esther, that we shall live
for each other always. Our blended being is an immortal
union. From henceforth'thy people shall be my people,
and thy God my God."'